This, That, and a Few Other Things
by vivamsmolly
Summary: A collection of my Samcedes one-shots/drabbles. Mostly unrelated stories about my favorite couple. Rated M for...reasons.
1. Introduction

**Hi All! I've decided to post my Samcedes one-shots/drabbles on this site for those who aren't tumblr capable. I'll try to update this weekly until I run out of one-shots to post. When I run out, I'll keep adding stories as I write them. In addition to this, I'm also working on a fic. So if you like suspenseful, angsty Samcedes please be sure to check out "I am Sure I Imagined You" and let me know what you think.**

**A few things before we get to the stories:**

1. I don't own Glee (if I did, it would have to be on HBO) or anything else (songs, movies, books, etc.) you may recognize.

2. There will be smut, copious amounts of it, so be sure your body is ready.

3. I'm always open to suggestions. If there is a one-shot you'd like me to continue, feel free to make a request.

4. If there is a specific one-shot you'd like me to write, don't be shy about sending your ideas my way. A warning, I write mostly AU Samcedes and I have limited knowledge of things and stuff. Also, I try to write as carefully as possible so don't be put off if it takes me a little while to take care of your request; I'll try to write as many as I can.

_5. Shameless fic plug: I finished my first fic recently (yay me!). It's called "Tied to the Tracks" and if smut is your thing, I definitely recommend it._

I think that covers everything. If you have any questions, please let me know. :)

**-Molly**


	2. Game Night

**I'll try to keep the intros short. As always, please review if you have the time and please excuse any mistakes.**

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Sam counted and recounted the money in his palm. "I can't afford to pay for that," he said regretfully, laying his scant pile of bills on the table.

Mercedes shrugged unsympathetically as she tapped the board with her purple painted nails. "It's only $2000, Sam. It's four of the orangish ones," she teased.

"Ha ha ha, woman. I don't have it. Can I write you out an IOU?"

"I'm sorry, the Bank of Mercedes only accepts cash, babe."

Sam licked his lips and scanned his competitive girlfriend up and down. He wasn't quite ready to lose yet so a bargain seemed like his best bet. "There has to be some other way I can pay."

She thought for a moment, rubbing her chin as she mulled over an idea. Sam watched her intently as the wheels turned inside her head. "Alright," she said finally, "I'll make a deal with you because you're so cute. Give me 100 bucks and your boxers."

"My what?" he questioned in a tone that reflected both his excitement and his worry.

"You heard me. Boxers or you can forfeit. You're also free to hand over any of those lovely hotels."

"Not a chance. You want my boxers, you can have 'em." Sam stood up and began unbuttoning his jeans. "Can I have a little privacy, please?"

"Sorry," Mercedes giggled and quickly placed a hand over his eyes. Sam dropped his jeans and stepped out of them, then out of his boxers immediately after. He flung the Batman-adorned undergarment onto the table into Mercedes' large stack of money and properties as he reached to pull his jeans back on.

"Can I look, now?"

He shrugged, unafraid to show her something she'd already seen before, "Sure," he said pulling the denim over his thighs.

Mercedes removed her hand from her face and shrieked as she caught him carefully tucking his cock into his pants. "Sam!"

"Sorry. You really shouldn't have people getting undressed at the Bank of Mercedes, it's unsanitary."

Mercedes shook her head, snatching the cream-colored $100 bill Sam handed her as he sat back down. She picked up the dice and shook them in her hand before dropping them onto the board with a solid plop.

"Eleven," Sam said, counting the spaces her race car would soon be moving. She picked up her silver game piece and trotted it past the purple and orange properties and rounded the corner into the red territory Sam had colloquially nicknamed "Death Valley." He grinned with devilish pride as she stopped on Indiana Avenue; the property already decorated with one of the few hotels Sam had managed to snag. Aside from the three hotels and the occasional house, Sam was also the proud owner of all four of the railroads. Mercedes traded the three she owned in exchange for the Park Place deed next to an unowned Boardwalk. She was feeling lucky and her feeling was right as she picked up a Chance card, sending her directly to the space and allowing her to complete her plan of placing hotels on both of the most valued properties. She thought the game would be over but somehow Sam had managed to stay afloat. Now, as she grimaced, searching through her wad of bills for the amount she owed him, her plan changed form a quick, friendly game to taking the shirt off of her boyfriend's back with no remorse.

"How much is it?" she asked, pulling out several $100 bills from her thick stack.

"The Bank of Sam is not currently accepting cash," Sam mocked.

Mercedes narrowed her eyes at Sam and spoke slowly as she asked, "What are you accepting?"

Sam plucked at an imaginary piece of lint on his t-shirt as he spoke nonchalantly. "Underwear. Bras and or panties. Your choice."

Mercedes couldn't help but grin as she pulled her arms into her blouse. She expertly unhooked her bra and slid her arms out of it all under the cover of her shirt. Sam sat straight up as she dropped the pink piece of lingerie into his lap.

"No fair," he whined, "I didn't even get to see anything."

"You should have asked for undies," Mercedes said as she pushed the dice in his direction. "You're up."

Before Sam knew it, he was buck naked at their dining room trying to ignore the gentle taps of his rigid cock against the table as he reached to move his game piece. After three consecutive rolls of double numbers, Mercedes landed herself in jail. Meanwhile, he was flinging clothes left and right as she sat comfortably in her underwear and blouse, refusing to use her "Get Out of Jail Free" card. An unlucky roll landed him on her hotel-adorned Pennsylvania Avenue and he had to stop himself from swiping the game board to the floor and taking Mercedes on the table as she bounced in her seat awaiting her payment. He watched as her breasts moved in her shirt, her hard nipples, peeking through the thin fabric. Quickly realizing he didn't have the cash to cover his debt, he got another idea. He rose from his seat and moved to stand behind Mercedes.

"That's 1400 bucks, Sam," she stated, holding her palm out expectantly.

"Still can't afford it, darlin," he said, leaning over behind her chair. "But I can pay you in another way." He swiped her hair to one side and leaned close behind her, giving her a determined lick from her collar to her earlobe.

She shuddered at the contact, her voice shaky she asked, "How's that?"

Her question fell into the air surrounding them, going unanswered as Sam palmed her breasts, rolling the nipples between his fingers. She leaned into his touch, allowing soft moans to escape her mouth when she felt his hand trail down her soft stomach and to the front of her underwear.

He swiped two fingers across her damp, panty-clad slit, grazing her clit in the process. She mumbled his name, thrusting her hips upward in an attempt to regain his touch.

"Your turn," he whispered in her ear, before moving back to his seat and settling himself back into his previous position.

"That wasn't worth $1400," she argued.

"Sorry, no refunds."

Mercedes huffed as she picked up the dice and jiggled them in her hand, eyeing the game board and counting the number of spaces she would have to move before her piece landed back into "Death Valley" and she had another debt to pay.


	3. Sweet Girls in Snug Shirts

**Surprise update! I know I said once a week but I was in the mood to write and decided to crank out this little one-shot. Please excuse any mistakes (especially if there isn't a closet anywhere near the auditorium at McKinley. I need a map of that place) and enjoy the story! **

**_I'd like to thank Zeejack for requesting this one-shot. _**

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_**At the end of the day, he was going to blame Superman. **_

She was a sight for sore eyes in yesterday's jeans and one of his old t-shirts stretched fittingly across her chest. Those same jeans he tore her out of the night before when he snuck her into his room. The tight, light denim little number that gave way to reveal those thick thighs that were currently covered in marks that displayed his adoration. He'd been thinking about those thighs, and that haunting ass of hers as well, ever since she brushed against him on her way to her seat in glee club. All day he had to watch her at random intervals strutting around sweet and bubbly as if his handprints weren't molded onto her ass. As if she didn't smell like his body wash after the quick and quiet shower she was forced to take before everyone woke up. As if her lips weren't still a little swollen and she wasn't wearing the emergency undies she kept in her purse.

He kept stealing glances at her, watching her upper body shake generously as she laughed animatedly with Tina and Kurt. That damn Superman logo was taunting him, dancing as her breasts moved with every breath she took. He had to concentrate on his own unsteady breaths as he listened half-heartedly to a conversation between Puck and Mike. One deep breath kept him from lunging forward in her direction. Two deep breaths kept him from strutting across the room and pressing his lips to hers mid-sentence. Three deep breaths kept him from sweeping her out of her chair, clearing the nearest flat surface, and giving everyone five seconds to clear the room if they didn't want to see a show.

It was a nudge from Mike that made him realize he was already half way out of his seat with his eyes trained dutifully on Mercedes.

"Where are you going, man?" Mike questioned, his eyes darting between Sam and his "target." Answering Mike was the last thing on his mind when he heard Mercedes speak up from across the room. He offered his friend a simple shake of his head before continuing to remove himself from his seat.

Sam didn't mean to follow her out of the classroom when she excused herself to go to her locker, it was just automatic. He mumbled something to Mr. Schue about heading to the bathroom before exiting the classroom and barely catching his teacher's response about everyone heading to the auditorium.

Mercedes didn't seem to notice him until he was pressed against her, his hands sliding up her sides and his hips pushing her into her open locker. He pressed kisses to her neck, allowing the affirmative moans she let slip to edge on his actions.

"How did I know you'd be right behind me?" she purred, pushing her ass against the ever-prevalent bulge in his jeans.

"You've been teasing me all day, woman," he growled, sweeping his tongue along her jawline. "What was I supposed to do?"

"You could try being good."

"Never that." He turned her around and pulled her forward, pressing his lips to hers as he shut her locker.

"Sam, I didn't get my-" she began to protest.

He cut her off with another heated kiss and a thrust of his hips into her midsection. "You don't need it."

She didn't argue when he grabbed her hand and pulled her into a nearby storage closet. He didn't argue when she pushed him against the door, threaded her fingers through his hair, and pulled him into a hungry kiss. Neither of them had much to say when she worked a hand between them and made a move for his belt buckle. He did his best to help, removing his lips from hers to create some distance between them and grabbing a condom from his back pocket. It wasn't long before his pants were around his ankles, his dick was sheathed, and her shirt - his shirt, but hell she wore it better than he ever could - was tossed aside. He planted eager kisses on her breasts, tracing the rim of her bra with his tongue as he undid the button on her jeans. He didn't bother to remove her bra like he did last night, knowing they didn't have much time and someone was possibly looking for them already. He'd have time to greet the girls later and worship the perfect pair in the way they deserved. Now, he wanted to fuck her so good she'd be walking crooked for the rest of day. So, it also seemed wise not to completely take her out of her jeans. Instead, he opted to pull them down enough so she could remove one leg before he lifted her up and spun them around, pinning her to the spot where he once stood.

A roaming hand found its way to her panties as he kissed her, pushing his tongue into her mouth and lapping up the moans she offered when a lone finger found itself pushing aside the fabric and entering her heat.

"You're already ready?" he hissed teasing her damp opening.

Her voice low, raspy she replied, "How could I not be? The shirt I've been wearing fucking reeks of you and it's been driving me crazy all damn day." The sex voice was definitely on and Sam knew better than to try to resist it.

"You hide it well, Miss Jones."

"Yeah, until somebody sticks his fingers where they don't belong."

"But baby," he crooned, pushing another finger inside of her, "they fit sooo perfectly." She rode his fingers, wrapping her legs around him tighter. "I got something that fits better though. Do you want it?"

"Oh yes." She considered herself lucky that he didn't make her wait too long before pushing himself inside of her. She gasped, still somewhat sore from the events of the previous night. She couldn't recall what exactly had spurred her into sneaking into Sam's room the night before. Maybe it was the phone sex they decided to try and her fingers being too damn short to do the job. Maybe it was the fact that a picture of his tented boxers had her seeping through her panties. Maybe she was just horny as fuck and needed a little of what Sam was oh so good at giving her. The storage closet was new, something she'd never dreamed of doing but as he pushed in and out of her, attempting to silence her moans with his lips she had a feeling that the location would be making repeat appearances in her fantasies.

Mercedes knew the volume would be an issue but try as she might, she couldn't stifle the whimpers of Sam's name or the curse words - at least she thought they were words - that tumbled past her lips as he moved steadily inside of her. She tried kissing him to quiet the both of them down but when they parted for a breath, his head fit into the crook of her neck where he continued his chorus of loud, garbled praises.

His fingers gently rolling her clit had her bucking against him and clawing the back of his neck as she came. He followed soon after, and she found her name mixed into the mantra of, "Fuck, fuck, yes, fuck, fuck, yes."

A few paper towels from a nearby shelf were just enough to get them cleaned up. A lingering kiss and a possessive slap of her ass had her pushing him toward the door lest they start up again.

Mercedes clamped her eyes shut, opening them again to see that she was not dreaming and her glee club classmates were indeed standing huddled around the door as she and Sam walked out. She racked her brain for an excuse, an alibi, an explanation but came up short and looked up to Sam for help. He couldn't offer anything as a guilty smirk formed on his lips and a thick red blush crept up his cheeks.

Rachel was the first to speak up, "I swear, does Glee Club mean anything to you guys at all?" she huffed before storming her way down the hall with a hesitant Finn on her heels. He whispered a barely audible "Wow" in Sam and Mercedes' direction before following his girlfriend heavy footsteps.

Santana was next, her voice more filled with pride than anything else, "Just absolutely wanky, you two; Britt and I might have to visit that closet later."

"I couldn't make you sound like that though, Santana. You have such a beautiful voice, Mercedes," Brittany complimented, patting Mercedes' shoulder gently before walking off with Santana.

"Dude, I don't know whether to congratulate you or Momma. That was epic," Puck announced, mirroring Santana's proud tone as he wrapped an arm around Sam's shoulders.

"Preach!" Artie exclaimed, throwing an appreciative hand into the air.

Quinn seemed more amused than anyone else offering a sweet and dazed "Oh my," as she began to wheel Artie down the hall.

"Sam," Mercedes began, tugging at his hand and looking for any way to exit the awkward situation, "we should get to the auditorium."

"We'll take you, Cedes," Tina insisted, pulling Mercedes away from Sam and beginning to walk down the hall. Kurt was right behind them, stepping in line on Mercedes' other side.

"Yeah, that way we can make sure you get actually get there without any sexual pit stops," he added as the three disappeared around a corner.

Sam looked between his remaining friends, still unsure of what one should say in moments such as these. Mike helped him out, asking a question he already knew the answer to, "So that's where you were going. Couldn't wait, huh?" he questioned, shaking his head and laughing.

"Hey," Sam shrugged, "I'm no Superman."


	4. Mr and Mrs Time

**Sneak attack! Another surprise update because one-shots are so much easier to write than chapters of my fic. I can't even pretend like I'm going to actually keep any sort of schedule any more. I'll be going on a couple of vacations soon (family reunions and what not) but I'll be sure to leave you guys with something else before I go. Enjoy!**

**_I'd like to thank rayray2007 for requesting this one-shot_  
**

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Are you guys sick of me yet? I hope not because I think I may have a problem and I don't know how to stop. Anyway, this is the second request I received, from rayray2007 (not sure if you have a tumblr) who requested a married Samcedes where Sam wants Mercedes to wear something sexy for the evening, asks Mercedes to strip for him, and is aggressive in bed. I think I made all of that happen and hopefully I didn't make it suck. Obviously there is smut (at this point I think it's the only thing I'm capable of writing).

Song used is "Speechless" by Beyonce.

Also, there is obviously a Ryan Gosling gif inside of this post because I can't resist. And also, you guise, his fucking arms, in that tanktop. ican't.

_**Tonight, dinner will be on me. Wear something sexy and after we eat, I'll be on you.**_

_**-Sam**_

Mercedes read the note again, making sure she hadn't missed a thing in Sam's carefully written message. She found the little scrap of paper before she left for her daily recording session. Sam was already gone and unavailable for any immediate questioning so she kept it in the pocket of her jeans all day, reading over it, agonizing over every word and wondering what was so special about today. Curiosity got the best of her and she decided to give Sam a call but he was less than helpful, asking if she'd read the note and reminding her to follow the simple direction. When she pressed him for more information, he only insisted that he had a surprise planned and that she would see it when she got home.

Her steps were quiet as she stepped into their home that evening, now wearing what she hoped would fit her husband's nondescript definition of "something sexy." She was tired after hours of belting out the lyrics to songs she'd spent the past couple of months perfecting. Though she was more than happy with her work and glad that she had the luxury to write her own music, she would be lying if she didn't admit that her R&B star career wasn't at times exhausting. One thing that always cheered her up was coming home to her architect husband of three years who never failed to greet her with a passionate kiss and warm embrace. Sam spent his days designing futuristic homes for those with a flair for the imaginative. All day he got to design secret entrances, lair-like offices, and elaborate living spaces that even Bruce Wayne and Tony Stark would be jealous of. His work and his clientele kept him satisfied but his wife, she kept him _happy_. He loved to be the first thing she saw when she entered their home whether it be after several months of touring, several weeks of promotions, or just several hours of recording; he'd race to the door if he heard her car pulling up, often opening it before she could even get her keys out.

Tonight was different. Their home was dark and the sound of her voice calling his name echoed loudly throughout their large living room. Her eyes caught a flickering light coming from the kitchen and she followed it blindly, surprised when she found Sam hovered over the table and lighting another candle to place on the neat layout. He looked up and greeted her with an excited "Hey Mercy," before beckoning her over.

"What is all this about Mr. Evans?" She moved to stand beside him, glancing at the table, she noticed a pan of Sam's famous veggie lasagna surrounded by salad, a bottle of her favorite red wine, and fresh baked bread. Worry clouded her mind for a moment as she mentally went through all of the events in their relationship that normally spurred on these kinds of romantic evenings. It wasn't any sort of anniversary that she could remember or either of their birthdays so she was curious as to why Sam had went through all the trouble.

"I just thought we both needed a little Mr. and Mrs. time tonight. Is that okay?" He turned to her, taking her hands in his and kissing her softly on her knuckles.

"It's fine, babe. In fact, it's wonderful. I love your surprises."

He placed a soft kiss to her lips, nuzzling her nose before pulling away again. "I'm happy you like it. First, you're going to get a little romance. Then, you're going to get a little _Sammance_." He drug out the last word, accentuating it with a roll of his hips and smirking at the chuckle it produced as he pulled out a chair for her to sit down.

"Should I ask?" she commented between giggles.

"I can show you better than I can tell you." He took his seat across the small table and regarded her with an expression of mock-annoyance. "I'm not sure if you're totally deserving of the Sammance though, seeing as you failed to follow my instructions. You are always sexy to me darlin' but jeans weren't exactly what I had in mind when I suggested something sexy."

She did feel slightly underdressed as she took note of Sam's attire. A fitted white button up and khaki-colored slacks were casual but still a little dressy in comparison to the well-worn jeans she was dressed in. "You said to wear _something_ sexy. The jeans aren't sexy, my shirt isn't sexy either," she briefly looked down to the simple red silk top she wore that showed off a modest amount of cleavage. She looked back to Sam seeing that his eyes had been trained on her chest as well, "But who says what's under them isn't sexy?"

"You've piqued my interest, Mrs. Evans," he commented, with a lick of his lips. He stared for a while, as if forcing himself to see through the fabric of her top and give him a hint of what might be under it.

Dinner was quick, neither of them having much of an appetite and focused more on the promises they made to one another about what would happen once they reached their bedroom. It was Sam who led the way up the stairs, refusing to turn on any lights and covering Mercedes eyes as he ushered her into their room. When Sam removed his hands, Mercedes couldn't help but smile at the dimly lit space. More candles were spread around and the scent of cinnamon and the faint sounds of soft music filled the air. She knew that Sam only made it home an hour or so before she did, so she was surprised that he had managed to do so much with the little time he had. Turning to give him an appreciative kiss, she was halted when he grabbed her hand and led her to the lone chair sitting in front of their king-sized bed. He had switched out their floral bedspread in exchange for something darker that she couldn't wait sink into. As he sat down in the armless, ornate black chair that normally sat in front of her vanity, she knew she wouldn't be getting that opportunity just yet.

She stood before him, slowly beginning to piece together Sam's plan. He picked up a small, silver remote from the floor beneath his chair and used it to switch the music emanating from the dock on their dresser.

_You've got me_

"Sam?"

_You've got me_

His green eyes were already darkened and the low grumble of his voice confirmed her suspicions of what time it was. "Why don't you show me something sexy, Mrs. Evans?" he insisted, settling against the back of the chair.

_Speechless_

She had an early morning but sleep was the furthest thing from her mind as she began to move her hips to the music. If her Sammy wanted a show, then dammit he would get one. The song was one of her favorites and had recently been on Sam's radar when he woke up one Sunday morning to find her in the kitchen, gyrating sensually to the track as she flipped pancakes. On several occasions, she had caught him shamelessly humming it as he ogled her in what he thought to be a discreet manner. She always caught him, proud that after so many years together she was still able to turn the man on the same way she did when they were teenagers. Hell, he still had the same effect on her, which was why she was currently dragging her hands along her sides as she turned to give him a perfect view of her winding backside.

Two smacks reverberated through the room. One to her ass by his over eager hands and one to those same hands with a warning not to touch and to only watch as she danced.

_My heart starts trembling_

Her top was first. She remained with her back to him as she slowly peeled the garment from her upper body. Watching herself in the mirror attached to the dresser, she continued to sway, alternating between slow body rolls and delicate swirls of her hips. Sam's appreciative groans didn't go unnoticed, nor did the frequent clenching of the fingers that hovered around her body, obviously anxious to touch her.

_Going outta my head I think I'm losing all my mind_

Once her top was gone, she turned to him, showing off her heaving breasts in the bright red lace bra she wore. Her hands roamed back up her body, grazing over her breasts and meeting in her middle as she pushed them down past her stomach and to the front of her jeans, rolling in Sam's face as she did so. She didn't notice she'd been singing, doing her best to give Beyoncé a run for money, until she noticed Sam's dark stare focused on her lips. Instinctively, she licked them, carefully sucking the bottom one into her mouth as she flicked the button open on her jeans. He raked his eyes back down her body, watching while she turned again and bent further and further forward while she slid her jeans down her legs. A frustrated grunt escaped him when he reached out to touch the thin string of the red thong she wore and was swatted away again with another warning.

Her jeans around her ankles, she dropped to the floor. Placing her hands on her knees, she swiped her ass around a few times before rising slowly, rubbing her body against Sam until she was upright again. She stepped out of her jeans and turned to face him before repeating her last move, rubbing her tits against his chest and grabbing his hair to mush his face between her mounds. Dominant feelings coursing through her, she almost felt sorry for the poor man who was panting as she straddled his lap. She placed a few gentle kisses to his lips before pulling him to her. He leaned into her, whispering her name against her flesh.

_I rub your back_

Her hands snaked around his back and raked her nails against his muscular form.

_I kiss your neck_

She used both hands to pull his head back by his hair and begin to plant hot wet kisses along his exposed neck, her lipstick marking her exact path.

_I know that you love when we touch like that_

"Baby," he whispered breathlessly, pawing at her thighs and not caring if she scolded him again.

_I can feel you need me_

She grinded her hips against his, moaning as he thrust his lower half upward and rubbed his stiffness against her center.

_Feels so good to me_

"Saaaaaam," she moaned deeply into his mouth.

_Feels so good to me_

As the music rose, she increased her gyrations. She was beyond wet and didn't bother to protest when Sam's hands trailed gently up her spine to find the hooks on her bra. He undid them slowly, grunting as each one unhooked then sliding the lacy piece of lingerie from her skin. She'd have to get up for him to remove the thong and his grip around her mid-section wouldn't allow it. When she made a move to rise from his lap, he growled, pulling her closer to him before ripping the flimsy underwear from her body. He tossed it aside casually, rising from the chair with her still attached to him and walking them to the bed. Their bodies separated only long enough for him to relieve himself of his clothes and he was nestled back between her legs before she even got a chance to enjoy the sight of his thick cock, stiff and ready for her.

He kissed her softly as he pushed himself inside of her slowly, making her moan and beg for every inch he gave her willingly. She could tell his normal urge to fuck her into the mattress hadn't overtaken him just yet. Once he was completely covered in her, he pulled back out, staring down between them as he watched his dick, now covered in her essence slide right back into its previous resting place. He moved steadily inside of her, watching their union and marveling at how well the two fit together.

She looked down and the sight alone was almost enough to make her cum. Moving to grab his hips, her hands were swiftly swatted away as he grabbed her writs into one of his huge hands and held them firmly above her head. She writhed beneath him, arching her breasts upward and hissing when he took the opportunity to spend time licking and sucking each of her nipples.

Letting her wrists go, he flipped her over. Making up for lost opportunities, he applied several heavy-handed smacks to her ass until her whimpers had his dick twitching for more of her.

"You want Sammy back inside of you don't you, love?" he questioned, teasing her opening with the dripping head of his member. The nod and meager "Yeah" she offered apparently wasn't a good enough answer. Moving his dick along her slick folds, he wedged himself between her lower lips until he felt the taut nub of her clit. He rubbed against it, waiting for her to give a better reply. "You want it don't you Mrs. Evans? Tell Mr. Evans how much you want it."

A particularly firm swipe of his cockhead coaxed a proper response from his wife. "Shit, yes! I want it Sam - please fucking give it to me!"

"That's my girl." She turned her head, looking over her shoulder to make out the smug grin he wore. Less than a second passed before he was burying himself back inside of her warmth, pounding into her determinedly. She was aware that the music had stopped but didn't care as the sounds of their skin slapping together and the various moans and mumblings coming from the two of them proved to be a more appropriate refrain.

"You. Like. That?" He marked his words with firm thrusts, watching her ass jiggle as she bounced against his cock.

"Oh - oh. Y-yes. I lo-oh-ove it," she stuttered, gripping the sheets beneath her trying to steady her quaking form. It didn't work as Sam pulled her up and continued to pump in and out of her while massaging her breasts with one hand and rubbing her clit firmly with the other. The little nips to her shoulders didn't help and in a matter of seconds her already warm body erupted into a fit of hot quivers emphasized by sounds she wasn't sure had come from her own mouth. She bent to hide her face, almost ashamed of her expressive climax but any self-conscious thoughts quickly left her mind as Sam whispered how _beautiful_ and _sexy_ she was in her ear until he began bucking against her out of breath and struggling for control. His quick movements and the familiar feeling of cum coating her walls and swiftly running down the inside of her legs had another climax tailing her first one. She tried to calm, but the shivers wouldn't stop as Sam trailed his hands lazily over her body and continued to move languidly inside of her. When he finally pulled out, he sunk down on the bed, dragging her with him and wrapped her tightly in his arms as he peppered sweet, slow kisses to her face.

"Did you enjoy your Sammance?" he asked, exhaustion quickly clouding his features. She only nodded, placing kisses to his heavy eyelids and allowing herself to fall into a deep sleep wrapped in_ Sam_.


	5. Maybe We Can Work it Out

**Hi! I don't have much to say, I'm just here to post this one-shot I finished tonight. Please leave a review if you have the time and remember that I'm always taking requests and I'll try to finish them as fast as I can. Thanks for reading!**

_**I'd like to thank SAILORMERCY for requesting this one-shot.**_

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"So what do you think Miss Jones. Am I good or am I _good_?" Sam asked as he watched his newest client checking out her firmer form in the mirror. He'd left her for a minute to retrieve a couple of towels and took the time to admire her still extremely curvy body on his way back to her. She had come to him a couple of months ago after getting his number from an old friend of hers with the intention of getting into shape. He wanted to tell her that she didn't need to change a damn thing, that her body was a thing of beauty and changing it would be an insult to powers higher than themselves. But thoughts like that didn't get him paychecks. Instead, he opted for the safer bet of helping her create a diet plan and exercise regimen that included four day a week visits to him and hour-long workout sessions.

"I think that you should probably stop staring at my ass, it's unprofessional," she sassed, turning to face him. Mercedes was used to Sam checking her out and today was no different than the last time they got together. She enjoyed the glances and the playful banter that the two had built up but there was something else there hanging between them that she couldn't quite put her finger on.

Sam placed a hand over his chest in mock annoyance. He loved messing with Mercedes, she'd always catch him staring at her and he never tried to hide it. Things weren't one-sided though. More than once, he'd caught her biting her lip or humming appreciatively when he'd do a little showing off around the gym. "Really?" he asked, his voice raising an octave, "Well I can't say that ogling your trainer every time he takes his shirt off is very professional."

She rolled her eyes, not backing down as he stepped closer to her. Mercedes was no stranger to flirting. She believed her ability to charm people was what kept her in business. Owning her own clothing boutique with her best friends Kurt and Tina hadn't been an easy venture but when she found herself easily able to convince a customer that they should not only buy some of the trio's self-designed clothing but also accessories to match, she knew she had found her calling.

"Please," she retorted with a roll of her deep brown eyes. "That's what you have those abs for, right?" She trailed a finger down the center of his body stopping to trace the dips in his abdomen. "You don't make yourself a work of art if you don't want people to admire you."

He had to bite his bottom lip to keep the moan from escaping his mouth as she touched him. Taking another step closer, he invaded her personal space, forcing her to look up at him to continue their conversation. She steeled her spine and straightened her shoulders as she lifted her head. A deep breath pushed her breasts against his chest and he was not ashamed of the quick glance he stole down the front of her tank top.

"Some of us have to work a little harder to get people to notice us, Mercedes. Not all of us have skin so soft it's like your entire body is draped in silk," he walked his fingers up her arm and along her shoulder, "or lips so delicious-looking just the sight could fill up a starving man," he drug a finger along her bottom lip, noting the slight tremble as he grazed her skin, "or an ass so perfect the damn thing should have it's own religion so that it can be worshipped properly," he rested a hand on her hip, itching to inch it towards her ass.

Mercedes' breath hitched when she felt Sam grip her hip. His large hands had already touched most of her body but the areas that ached for him the most were the ones he couldn't touch in the middle of a crowded gym.

"A-and you'd be part of that religion?"

He gripped her thigh and pulled her closer, leaning in to speak into her ear. "I'd build the church with my own bare hands."

She couldn't stop the little whimper that left her mouth as his tepid breath tickled her skin. She wasn't expecting that, Sam had her cornered and for once, she didn't have a proper retort. She tried to step away, ready to break into a swift walk as soon as he released her. She needed to get away from this man before she jumped him in front of the people they both had to face on an almost-daily basis. "I should go. I think our hour is up."

"So is my shift. Just let me go shower and I'll be right with you." Today would be the day he'd have her. Today he'd take the time to give her the only workout he'd wanted to give her ever since she came sauntering into his gym.

Mercedes found her confidence again, realizing what was there between the two of them that she hadn't noticed before. She wanted to fuck Sam, _good and hard_, to comb over every section of that sculpted body of his until he screamed her name. "You're very forward," she whispered coyly.

"You're very sexy," she smacked him playfully with her towel and he grabbed it and used it to pull her flush against him. "And I'd very much like to fuck you into the deepest sleep you've ever had."

"You're also confident as hell."

"Is that a problem?"

"No. Honey, I feel your dick pressed against me on a weekly basis." He groaned when she discreetly cupped the slight bulge in his gym shorts. "I'd say you have reason to be confident. Now go get your ass in the shower. We're going to my place."

"Yes ma'am."

He watched her make her way to the locker room, leering openly at her ass in the tight leggings she wore until she disappeared behind the door marked Ladies. After showers, where Sam had to resist the urge to stroke himself and walk through the gym trying to hide his visible arousal and Mercedes had to ignore the powerful throbbing between her legs as she thought about Sam's large hands touching every part of her tey met back up in the parking lot, quickly getting into their cars so as not to attack each other in the middle of the lot. Sam never fucked a client before and had no intention of making it a hobby but all it took was a smile from Mercedes to break down the man who spent his days surrounded by "beautiful" people.

They didn't even make it inside the door of Mercedes' home before Sam found his hands attached to the ass he had been waiting to put his paws on for the past two months. He stopped her before she even got the opportunity to open the door, snatching her and turning her around as she fumbled with the keys. She didn't know whether his hands found her bottom first or whether his mouth found her lips. Two large handfuls and a few light smacks parted her lips in a sensuous "Oh," and the space was immediately filled with a thick, eager tongue. He pressed her against the door lowering his body and grinding his sweatpant covered cock against her. From her little inappropriate palming at the gym, she could tell the man was big but feeling him hard and grinding against her had her rethinking whether or not she should call in sick to the boutique tomorrow.

He pulled his mouth from hers only long enough to complement the work they'd been doing for the past couple of months and tell her just how good her body felt in his hands. He lifted her against the door, ignoring her protests as he snuck his hands up her t-shirt to cup her full breasts.

Two blaring honks from a passing car sobered the two of them and Sam reluctantly dropped Mercedes gently back to her feet. She bent to pick up the keys that tumbled from her hands and took the opportunity to rub her ass against him, receiving an impatient thrust from Sam in return. Finally, she opened the door and before she could step across the threshold, Sam picked her up, bridal-style, and carried her into her home, slamming the door shut with his foot once they were through it.

"Sam the bedroom is that way," she squealed as he spun around the foyer with her still in his arms, eying the color-infused decor before deciding to go in the direction of where he thought the living room would be. He ended up in her dining room where a circular hand-carved wooden table sat surrounded by four matching chairs and covered with a vase of fresh orchids.

"This will have to do," he shrugged, swiping the vase from the table and replacing it with Mercedes. She didn't have time to complain about the smashed birthday gift from Kurt as Sam spread her legs and fit himself between them. He lifted her t-shirt and pulled it off, stopping briefly to admire the swell of her breasts in the blue bra she wore before latching his mouth onto one of her nipples and sucking it through the soft fabric. She moaned, slipping her fingers through his hair and reaching around to unhook her bra.

"Let me," he growled swiping her hand away and removing her bra in an instant. He tossed it, going back to showing her breasts the affection he'd been holding in for much too long. Her skin was softer than he could have imagined and he felt truly blessed to have the opportunity to touch her in a way that he didn't have to pretend was innocent. He kissed down the center at her body, stopping to lick her belly button and smile at the giggle that escaped as she stared down at him. She had pulled out her ponytail and her thick hair hung loosely over her shoulders. Her eyes dark and now seemed like as good a time as any to begin checking off things from his mentally kept list of things he wanted to do to Mercedes Jones.

He stopped kissing her when he reached her jeans, giving her thigh a firm smack signaling her to lift as he unbuttoned and unzipped them before removing them from her body with her underwear attached. He relieved himself of his own clothes, grabbing a few condoms from his wallet and Mercedes took the time to appreciate the fine biscuit of a man who would surely sop up the mess he'd made in her panties. He licked his plump lips before pulling up a chair, wrapping his arms around her thick thighs, and pulling her to him.

Soft kisses turned into firm licks and grateful hums against her wet center. She moaned for him, gripping the table and thrusting her hips up, begging him to aid her with her release.

"How does that feel Miss Jones?" he asked circling her clit with his tongue and inserting two fingers inside of her. He sucked the little nub, glancing up to notice her heavy breathing and fierce nodding as she played with her tits, rolling her nipples between her fingers.

Mercedes knew that damn mouth of his would give her trouble. Those pink lips were always twisted into a smirk whenever the two were together and after feeling them on her body she knew exactly why they'd made frequent visits to her after dark thoughts. She writhed against him, finally catching up to release she'd been chasing. She came in Sam's mouth and he happily licked her cream until she grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled him up to her. She kissed him, parting his lips with her tongue to taste him - to taste herself. She enjoyed the mixture of her cum and his saliva as her tongue explored his mouth.

"I want you so fucking bad, Sam," she rasped, taking his bottom lip between her teeth and nibbling it.

"Same here," he grunted between another handful of rough kisses.

Reaching between them, she took hold of his hard cock, tugging him closer until he pressed against her clit; she rubbed his head against her button, swallowing the moans that escaped his mouth as they kissed. She was more than ready to fuck Sam and judging by the precum leaking from his swollen head, he was ready as well. He could only watch, excited and enamored as she covered his dick with a condom and spread her legs wide, lining him up with her center. When they were positioned, he took control again, pushing her back onto the table and interlacing her fingers with his as he pushed inside of her. She was tight, hot, wet and what began as slow, gentle strokes quickly turned into needy, fast thrusts that caused the table to rock beneath them with a steady creak.

Mercedes would never be allowed back at the gym if Sam had anything to do with it. Never again would he be able to watch her switching around, running on the treadmill, stretching or doing anything else that gave him a view of her amazing body without taking her and not giving a good got damn who saw.

He fucked her until he felt his legs shaking and her walls clenching unforgivably around him. He succumbed to the pressure building in his balls and released inside of her, filling the condom as he double over, his body jerking erratically. Collapsing on his forearms, he buried his face in her neck, kissing her damp skin as she rubbed his back. Her body was still shaking and it took him a moment before he made his way to her lips and found the words to tell her how amazing she was. She happily returned the compliments, laying on plenty of her own as his hands began roaming her body. He'd be ready again soon and a finger finding its way into her heat let him know that she'd be up for another round as well.

The hours flew by as the two of them got intimately acquainted in her home. The walls in her dining room, living room, foyer, hallway, and finally her bedroom all bore witness to their heated lovemaking.

Mercedes stared at the ceiling trying to control her breathing as Sam finished cleaning himself up in the bathroom. When he returned to the bed, he pulled her to him, wrapping her in his arms applying tender kisses to the side of her face.

"So, I was thinking that tomorrow we could-" she shushed him with a finger to his swollen lips.

"Let's just think about right now." She replaced her finger with her lips and smiled as she kissed him. Mercedes didn't want to think about the morning, about the mess they'd left in her house, the gym membership she would probably have to cancel, or the fake sick voice she'd have to put on to let Tina and Kurt know she wouldn't be coming into the shop tomorrow. She only wanted to focus on the hands that were roughly grabbing her ass and the lips that felt just at home on her face as her own and happily returned the deep, wanton kisses she offered. She only wanted to focus on Sam, every inch of him, and the pounds she'd probably shed if they decided to continue their little sessions.


	6. Only Endless Love

**Hello, hello again! I'll be taking another vacation this weekend so it may be a little while before there is another story posted. In this mean time, please enjoy my most recent one-shot. Remember, reviews keep me going if you want to read more! Thanks for reading! **

**_I'd like to thank rayray2007 for requesting this one-shot._  
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As soon as Mercedes left the stage and the small crowd of people that had surrounded the stairs to congratulate she and Puck the moment they finished their final number for the night, she was pulled into Sam's arms. He was always there, waiting every night until she finished her set, ready to take her home where he would normally have a late dinner waiting for just the two of them.

Mercedes hadn't imagined herself singing at Troy's after she landed her record deal. She was still one of the strongest backing vocalists her label employed but when Puck had to take an extra job to help get his pool cleaning business off the ground, she found herself unable to say no when he asked her to form a little group to sing five nights a week at the always-bustling club. The crowds loved the two of them and they never failed to earn a little extra in their paychecks that they contributed to the effortless on-stage relationship the two of them shared. The money was more than enough to keep Sharkman Pool Cleaning afloat, enough for Mercedes to move out of her little one room flat and into the two-bedroom apartment she felt she deserved.

Then Sam showed up.

It didn't take long for the lovesick guy to find his way back to her. The two had decided to part ways when she left for LA but they still kept in close contact which meant that Mercedes didn't have the heart to tell Sam 'no' when he informed her that he'd be on the first bus to LA following his McKinley graduation ceremony with no job, no money, and absolutely no plan. She had to admit that she both loved and admired Sam's impulsiveness and desire to follow his dreams though she hadn't quite realized that she had been one of them.

There wasn't a smile when he greeted her tonight. No "great job" or "you're so talented, baby," just a grab of her hand and a yank of her arm that pulled her from the throng of people and straight toward the door.

Mercedes planted her feet, finally able to stop Sam when her questioning of his sudden dragging of her through the crowd didn't deter him from pulling her along. "What are you doing, Sam? What's the rush?" she asked, taking her had from his and awaiting his explanation for his hurried behavior.

He turned to look at her, quickly averting his guilty gaze from her expectant one and only able to offer a shake of his head in response.

"I didn't even get to take off my makeup or say good night to Puck," she commented, looking around for the crowd of women that undoubtedly had Puck at their center holding him hostage until he agreed to take at least one of them home for the night.

Sam's jaw clenched at the mention of the man who was the current object of his frustrations. Not quite ready to discuss why he currently saw red whenever their "friend" was mentioned, he only offered a feeble explanation. "I'm just tired is all, Mercy. I'm ready to get home."

A soothing smile from Mercedes relaxed him and he almost felt bad for his anger. Then Puck walked toward the two of them, immediately pulling Mercedes into a bear hug and kiss on the cheek - too near her lips - that lasted longer than Sam thought appropriate. After a terse hug from Puck, Sam was tugging at Mercedes hand again, breaking her out of the conversation she had just begun having with their mohawked friend.

"Can we go?" he requested succinctly.

"Yeah, I guess you're really tired, huh? Just let me grab my bag." She kissed him on the cheek and then disappeared back into the crowd toward the dressing rooms. Puck attempted to start a conversation, asking about how Sam's second semester at UCLA was going but Sam only offered short, quick answers and didn't bother to do his part to fill the awkward silence between the two of them. Sam caught the top of Mercedes dark hair darting back in his direction and he was relieved when he had her hand in his again and walked her out of the door of the club and to her car waiting in the parking lot. She tossed him her keys and allowed him to drive back to her - their apartment.

The drive was silent on Sam's end but Mercedes took the opportunity to gush about how much she loved singing at Troy's. During the day, she spent her time in studios and glued to her laptop completing schoolwork. Sam filled most of the free time she had and aside from spending time with her on-again boyfriend, singing at Tony's was the only completely bright spot in her life. When she got up on that stage every night she felt like she was truly living her dream. With one of her closet friends by her side and the love of her life in the audience, every night was perfect and tonight seemed like just another evening filled with laughter, love, and the lovely lopsided grin her boyfriend was always happy to provide. She hadn't noticed his too tight grip on the steering wheel or the eye rolls that followed her mention of Puck and the new musical number the two were working on. When they reached her apartment, she did notice Sam didn't run around the car to open her door as he usually did and was up the stairs and into the apartment before she got the chance to ask him what was the matter.

When she stepped through the door, she found Sam pacing in the living room, one hand stuffed deep into his pocket and the other carding nervously through his short blond hair.

"Babe, are you okay?" she asked, her voice etched with concern.

Again, he didn't answer. A deep, intense breath was all Mercedes could register from him before he crossed the small distance between them and pulled her body to his. He pressed his mouth to hers, instantly prying her lips open and slipping his tongue into the vacated space.

"Sammy, what are you doing?" she breathed against his lips, excited yet leery of his sudden boldness.

"Am I not allowed to make out with my girlfriend?" he asked, trailing kisses down her neck.

"I didn't say that - I just -" he pushed her against the wall, bumping a framed picture of their former glee club and silencing her questions with his mouth. He wanted her, needed her in that moment. Needed her body pressed to his, shaking and trembling, and the little whimpers leaving her mouth that only he could produce. He didn't care to discuss what was wrong with him or what had him in a sudden sexual uproar he just needed his Mercedes, nothing else. Needed to be reminded that she was his and only his. She returned his fervent kisses, obviously anxious to start one of their favorite activities as she pulled his shirt over his head and allowed him to hike her dress up to her waist. He didn't bother with too much foreplay other than pulling down the top of her dress to apply a few rushed kisses and nips to her breasts. She still moaned for him, still panted his name amongst the deep, steadying breaths she took. Her body still shivered when he fucked her with two fingers, preparing her for the cock he had already released from his jeans.

"Saaaamm, fuck me," was all she had to say before he was inside of her, back where he and only he belonged. Her fucked her against the wall relentlessly only easing up when he awaited her answers to his inquiries of just who her pussy belonged to and who the only man was that could make her feel like this.

"Sam," was her only answer.

Not Noah, not Shane, but Sam motherfucking Evans. She was his and always would be if he had any say in the matter. He couldn't stop loving the woman even if he wanted to and he knew she felt the same. It was all he needed to hear as his breath quickened against the spot he nestled himself into against her neck. She pulled his hair, told him she loved him, and came for him milking his dick as he did the same for her.

Why else was he here? Why else was he in LA without a single thing to his name other than the duffel bag he carried? Why else did it only take him two weeks to get Mercedes back? They belonged together and nothing else - no one else could change that. After they each calmed, the haze of rough sex slowly leaving the two of them, Sam let Mercedes down and tucked himself back into his pants and put his shirt back on as she fixed her dress.

"Is everything okay with you? You're not normally so quick unless we're in a hurry," she inquired, genuine worry still guiding her thoughts.

He shook off the question offering yet another half-assed response, "I'm fine. I just missed you I guess. Was that not good enough for you?"

She ignored his last comment, folding her arms over her chest, "Whenever you're ready to stop lying to me we can talk." She walked to the living room with him following close behind her and took a seat on the plush tan couch in the center of the room.

"I don't know what you mean," he said kicking the ground and avoiding the confrontation he knew was hurtling his way.

"Whatever, Sam. Keep pretending like I can't read you if that makes you feel better but I can tell when something is wrong." He didn't offer an answer, only began tugging at the collar on his t-shirt and looking anywhere but in her direction. Mercedes mentally traced through the events of the night, trying to figure out exactly what had triggered Sam's bad mood. He showed up at the club his normal cheery self and even spent time joking with she and Puck back stage before the duo began their performance. She remembered searching through the crowd for him, always aware of his position and his mood. Suddenly, she remembered the grimace he wore when she and Puck finished their rendition of Atlantic Starr's "Secret Lover's". She hadn't thought much of the song when Puck suggested it or even when the two rehearsed it, but now, as she thought about the sour look marring Sam's face, she wished that she had taken to time to choose a different song.

She grabbed Sam by the hem of his shirt, pulling him to where she sat and tugging at his clothing until he looked down at her. "Is this about the song we sang tonight? Puck picked it out randomly; it doesn't mean anything. You know that, right?"

"That's not the point, Mercy!" he exhaled with a flail of his arms.

"What is it then?" she stood from the couch, her hands on her hips, waiting for him to explain. "You've been walking around here seething like I'm supposed to read your mind. If something is wrong you have to tell me, Sam."

He moved away from her, kicking at the carpet as he tried to control the huff of words running out of his mouth, "It's the damn way you look at him! You're supposed to look at me that way!"

"Who? Puck?" Mercedes was genuinely surprised. It had been quite some time since she even gave Puck a second glance and now that Sam was back in her life, she didn't even bother to think of the man as anything more than a friend.

"Yes, Puck! You get up there and you guys sing and spend the whole night eye fucking each other. Everybody thinks that he's the one you're dating, not me."

Mercedes narrowed her eyes, not even slightly coming to understand Sam's anger. "You've got to be kidding me, Sam. You're jealous of Puck?"

"Maybe… I mean, h-how am I supposed to feel? You told me you guys hooked up and now I'm here and I know we're together and I know you love me but what if it happens again? I can't lose you Mercedes - I gave up everything to be here, to be with you." His hands were back in his hair, tugging roughly as he tried to make her understand his position.

"We're just singing. I promise you, it's nothing else." She moved nearer to him, wrapping a hand around his and giving his fingers a reassuring squeeze. They stood like that for a moment, each of them waiting for what the other had to say. Mercedes took a deep breath and decided to continue the conversation in a voice so soft Sam had to lean in to hear her. "I'm sorry I hooked up with Puck. I can't take it back but it's done. You and I weren't together and he was - he was just there."

"That doesn't make it hurt any less. There's only been you for me, Mercy - no one else, ever." He couldn't stop his voice from cracking and couldn't hide the tears welling in his eyes. She had to see, had to understand that he didn't love anyone else in the way he did her, he couldn't.

"Except for that woman at Stallionz," she replied dryly, under her breath.

"What?" he scoffed. "Is that why you did it? To get back at me?"

"I'm not that vindictive and you fucking know it. I'm just trying to draw parallels. That didn't mean anything just like Puck and I didn't mean anything. I gave everything to you Sam. You have what no one else will ever get from me."

He looked into her big brown eyes, misty and pleading for him to comprehend, "What's that? Your virginity?"

"My heart! No matter who else I'm with, you'll always have that part of me Sam and I want you to have it, always. You were my first love, my only love." He softened at her words, pulling her close to him and enfolding her in his arms.

"You have my heart too, Mercy," he admitted as he gently kissed her hair. "I just - I know how Puck is and it's just fucking hard, you know?"

"Well, if it's worth anything I kind of completely ruined the mood when I called him your name and cried for two hours afterward."

"Wow," he perked slightly at her admission but still not feeling completely right.

"Yeah, it was kind of intense but it's not worth keeping anything from you." He nodded, finally feeling himself begin to relax as Mercedes wrapped her arms around his middle. "Are you still mad?" she asked timidly.

"I probably shouldn't come to any more of your shows."

"Maybe I can dial it back on the flirting a little bit. People really seem to love it but I understand that this is hard for you. It's like I'm just rubbing it in your face and that's not my intention, ever. I don't want you to feel like I'm going to do anything to hurt you." She pulled away and looked up him with what could only be described as love in her eyes. "There is a reason that I ended up back in Lima. It wasn't my parents, it wasn't any of my other friends, it was just you. There was nothing else there for me but you."

He smiled, recalling the long talk they'd had where he finally convinced her to come back to LA despite her not entirely truthful admission of being "homesick." He also remembered his plan to move to LA, to get Mercedes back once again, and to never let her go once he did. "And I came all the way out here-" he began.

"Used every penny you had for a bus ticket-" she continued.

"Just to be with you," he finished.

"Just to sleep on my ratty couch," she chuckled, snuggling back against his chest. "Despite the fact that we weren't even dating anymore."

"I wanted us to be."

"So did I," she admitted.

"And now we are." He placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face to look at him before placing a tender kiss to her lips.

"And we always will be. I have no intention of giving your ass up any time soon. You're mine, Evans, no matter what."

"I'm fine with that."

She kissed him this time, pulling away when a faint growl came from his tummy. "So, are we having dinner tonight or-"

"I kind of forgot about dinner," he confessed, only able to smirk at her disappointed expression. "But you're welcome to all the Sam you can handle."

She giggled, biting her bottom lip she announced, "I'll take it."


	7. Early Weakened

**Tired of me yet? This is the last one before I leave and then I promise to stay out of everyone's hair for a while. Fingers crossed that when I come back there will be plenty of reviews *hint, hint* and I'll have another one-shot to offer. Thank you all for reading/reviewing/favoriting/following/etc. Your comments literally make my day so please take the time to leave them so I know you want more. Please excuse any mistakes/errors on my part. **

_**This one-shot features: dating samcedes, some light bondage, sex toys, spanking, and sex. enjoy!**_

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My step was light as I left the office early, bidding cheerful farewells to my co-workers. I had decided to take a well-deserved early start to my weekend and had to resist the urge not to dance my way to the parking lot.

My car couldn't move fast enough as I sped through the light traffic to get home. Her car was in the driveway and the excitement emanating from me was palpable. I could feel the familiar heat rising inside of me as I rushed into the house, my eyes already searching for her before I could even close the door behind me. She didn't respond when I called her name and a quick peek into the rooms downstairs didn't divulge her presence. I headed upstairs and straight to my bedroom, not thinking of anywhere else Mercy could be.

Bingo!

I couldn't keep my mouth from dropping open and my bag from tumbling to floor with a heavy thud when I walked into the room. I had found my Mercy. She was lying calmly on my bed, waiting for me. Her big brown eyes flashed toward me, lighting up, as I stood frozen, taking in her position. I raked my eyes up and down her body. Starting from the bottom up I first glanced at her petite feet, bound at the ankles with one of green my silk ties, then her thick chocolate legs, bare from her calves to her thighs where purple fabric stretched over her hips in a pair of well-fitting panties. I inched my gaze upward, following the lines of purple lace decorating the black bustier she wore that barely did its job of containing her large breasts. Her hair was over her shoulders, covering part of her face but I could spot a smirk forming in her cheeks beneath the tie clenched between her teeth and tied around her head. Her eyes were dark and her eyelids hung low when our stares collided. An audible groan left my mouth once I reached the top of her outstretched body and noticed the furry black handcuffs that had her firmly secured to the rail on my headboard.

"Mercy," I uttered, making my way over to the bed, drawn to her magnetically. She squirmed slightly, moving her bound legs in my direction and pushing her body upward. "How did you get like this?"

She glanced down at the tie between her teeth and I reached behind her head to remove it. She licked her lips as she adjusted to having full control of her mouth and I could already feel myself needing to taste her.

"Kurt owed me a favor," she admitted with a devious smile.

My eyes wandered her body again. I struggled to keep my hands at my side as I waited for the right moment to touch her. "It must have been one huge favor."

"Let's just say it involved Blaine, anal beads, and a four AM trip to the emergency room."

"Say no more. But why all of this?" I asked gesturing toward my bound girlfriend.

"You know if most guys came home to their girlfriend tied up on their bed and offering herself, they would be too busy fucking her brains out to ask so many questions."

"You love me because I'm special. But what if I didn't come home on time? You would have been stuck here all day."

"I told you I would be here waiting for you so I knew you were coming home on time. But Kurt promised not to pull off until he saw your car." I thought for a moment, remembering the distinct flash of a bright red sedan passing me when I parked my car. I didn't think twice about whether or not the person had been someone I knew, I was too focused on getting inside.

"Anyway," she continued, "I did all of this because when I asked you what you wanted to do this weekend you said, and I quote," she cleared her throat before speaking in a deeper tone, "'I just want to do you, baby.' So, I thought I'd give you what you wanted. Consider me a little present, Sammy, to do with whatever you like."

I couldn't help the grin that spread across my face and tried not to think about whether it was more of a lecherous one than I intended. "Really?" I asked allowing myself my first touch of her as I reached down to cup her cheek.

"Yup, however you want me. You can tease me, you can fuck me; you can untie me or you can leave me just like I am and do dirty things to my body."

I pressed a firm kiss to her lips and whispered a raspy, "I love you," against her mouth.

Her voice was husky when she spoke, causing my dick to twitch in anticipation. "And I've been waiting tied up in your bed for the past fifteen minutes so I think you know how I feel about you babe."

"Where do I begin?"

"Wherever you want."

I shrugged out of my sport coat and tossed it aside as I decided where to start. I started by slipping a hand beneath the bra cup of her bustier. She rose into my touch, biting her bottom lip as I teased her areola and rolled her little brown nipple between my fingers. I crawled onto the bed beside her, hooked my fingers into her top, and pulled it down, letting out a gracious sigh as two of my very best friends came out to greet me. Mercy giggled when I greeted the Ladies with soft kisses, genuinely expressing how much I missed them.

"Aw, you gals missed me, didn't you?" I said, pressing affectionate kisses to her flesh.

"Sam, you just saw them - ooooh, shit!"

I cut her off by pushing the girls together and laving both of her nipples repeatedly before taking to kissing and nipping her ample mounds. She was already writhing beneath me, urging me to continue. I slowed suddenly as I remembered the very special order I placed last week; the discreetly delivered package that was now sitting wrapped up in my office. I wanted to save it for a special occasion but what could be more special than coming home to one of the best gifts I'd gotten in a while? I had to return the favor.

I released the nipple I had sucked into my mouth and blew on it to watch it pucker up. "I have a present for you baby," I stated, pausing my playing.

"I think it can wait."

"You sure? I think you might want it. I'll go get it."

I hopped up from the bed and placed a quick kiss on Mercy's lips to quiet her protests before running downstairs and grabbing the sparkling gift bag from where I had it hidden in my office. Taking the stairs two at time, it was a matter of seconds before I was back in my bedroom and sitting down on the bed in front of Mercedes. She pushed herself up slightly so she could watch me remove a long black box from the bag.

"What did I get?" she questioned eyeing the box.

I traced my fingers over the embossed silver lettering on the front of the box. Je Joue. I pulled off the lid and revealed the purple silicon vibrator I had picked out especially for my Mercy. I had already taken the time to charge it up last night and intended on using every hour of pleasure the website promised.

I carefully slid the tie from around her ankles, watching her wiggle as I tickled and kissed her feet. I kissed each of her heels and the inside of her ankles before spreading her legs and placing them gently on the bed. I groaned at the sight of her pink pussy spreading open through the crotchless panties she wore.

"You like?" she asked with a smirk, noticing my sudden piqued interest in the slick valley between her thighs.

I nodded, further expressing my approval as I trailed an anxious finger from her calf to her inner thigh, stopping only to graze the lace in the bend between her hip and her thigh before tracing lightly against her wet slit.

I pressed the little plus button on the vibrator and felt it come to life in my hand. Tracing the same path down her inner thigh, I met her pussy with a swipe of the toy down her center. Her body jumped slightly and I felt a wave of satisfaction wash over me. I wanted to make my Mercy come, hard and loud, and this little purple toy would be my assistant in doing so.

"I picked this out just for you baby," I stated as I dipped the vibrator in and out of her, "purple is your favorite color and I knew you would like this one because it has five speeds and," I pushed the little button between the speed controls and the toy began to buzz in quick, short vibrations against her, "it has a pulse setting."

"You like?" I asked, deciphering an affirmative answer from the moans trickling out of her.

I barely made out the "Uh huh," that escaped her mouth as she rolled her hips against the toy. I pulled it out of her, bringing it to my lips to taste her as she watched me intently, her fingers flexing and a delighted smile gracing her face as I savored her essence. I leaned over to kiss her, allowing her to taste how good she was and she licked my lips greedily, enjoying her own juices, then whining when I pulled away and began kissing my way down her body, removing her bustier in the process. I could feel the heat coming from her as I found my way to her center and gave her a firm swipe with my tongue. I traced around her clit, being sure not to stimulate the little nub too much. A task Mercedes made especially hard as she thrust herself toward my flickering tongue.

"Saaammy, don't tease," she wailed when I pushed her hips down firmly on the bed.

I grabbed handfuls of her thighs and began to mold the skin beneath my palms, reveling in how soft she always seemed to be. "Shouldn't I be able to do what I want with my present? I want to play, Mercy. So I'm going to play as. long. as. I. . please." I punctuated my words with firm smacks to her ass that forced little whimpers out of her mouth. "Now, can I continue?"

A simple, "Please," was her only response. Finding the vibrator again, I upped the speed on the device and began to push in and out of her at a painfully slow pace. I could feel my dick throbbing and my mouth watering, each part of me itching to get a taste of what the purple toy was casually probing but I wouldn't fully quench those thirsts until I had Mercy in a mess of cum and sweat on the bedspread.

I picked up my pace, switching to a different pulse setting and aiming the already curved toy further upward to hit that special spot that made my baby squirt and scream things I never learned the meaning of. I didn't bother with any more questions. Any inquires I had were answered by the moans of my name and the ever-tightening grip I had to place on her trembling thigh to keep her legs from snapping shut. My baby was close.

I leaned over her again, catching one of her steadily-bouncing tits in my mouth as I continued to move the vibrator in and out of her. I kissed from her breasts, over her collarbone, and up her neck and along her jawline where I found myself licking her ear and rasping into it. "I want to take these clothes off darlin' and fuck you right but I can't do that until you come for me." I began to grind myself against her, my rigid cock stroking her inner thigh, I insisted, "Tell me what you need."

A deep moan fought its way out of her throat as her breathless response came. "My clit, fuck Sammy, rub my clit." I sat back up. Following her orders, I swiped the pads of my fingers across my tongue before bringing them to rest against her clit.

"Is this what you need, Mercy?" I questioned, rubbing her stiff button in a somewhat languid fashion. She groaned in frustration, her breaths heavy after the sudden exasperation.

"Harder," she demanded through clenched teeth and I couldn't help but comply, rubbing her clit in rhythm with the pulsating plaything. Her lower half rose from the bed and I watched her in excitement, fascinated by the dramatic execution of her climax. She was mayhem: thrusts, thrashes, and curses, all of which soon calmed into a delicate heap of shivering skin and concentrated breaths.

It was only a beat, a literal second, before my lips were on hers, taking what little breath she had and attempting to replace it with my own. My tongue fought with hers, struggling to conquer her mouth as she fought back valiantly against my loving invasion. I pulled away from her in a fit, realizing I couldn't win against the woman whose lips could buckle my knees with a simple peck. I was weak for her and when it came to games of lust, I would always lose, quickly giving in to her desires and happily trading control for toe-curling orgasms. Tonight, she was at my, for lack of a better word, mercy and I would be remiss if I didn't take full advantage of the situation.

I left the bed again. "Turn over," I ordered not giving her time to complain. It took some careful maneuvering, but soon she was on her knees presenting her perfect ass to me. I studied it, finding myself suddenly thankful for every inch of the brown form that was mine to oversee for the night. Walking my fingers down her spine, I smirked conceitedly at the goose bumps my touches produced. When I reached her ass, I ran a gentle finger down the center of her firm cheeks before applying a heavy smack.

"Sam!" she squealed. I kissed the reddening spot my hand grazed and bit down on the area directly after, eliciting a hiss from Mercy.

"Do you want me to stop?" I asked kissing her bottom again. She shook her head, her hair tousling over her back as she did. "I can't hear you baby."

"Don't stop," she said, wrapping her fingers around the rail her cuffs slid against. I rubbed my hand in small circles on her ass, watching her body tense in preparation for the next smack. I occasionally lifted my hand and returned it to her body with gentle pats. I must have been taking too long for her liking, "I asked you not to st-" she started to say but was cut short when another heavy-handed smack came against her behind.

"Do you like that?" She nodded again. "Mercedes," I said in an attempt to get her to open her clamped eyes.

"What?" she whimpered from the curtain of hair blocking most of her face. When I moved the locks over her shoulder I could see her bottom lip placed firmly between her teeth.

"Look at me," I urged and when she did, I couldn't help but smile at the dark eyes that would do awful things to me once she was let loose. "I love you," I said hoping to lessen some of my later punishment. She didn't respond, only huffed through the smirk forming at her lips. "I asked a question, baby," I began, as I removed my tie and unbuttoned my shirt. She watched me undress and I took special care to take my sweet time as I let my shirt fall to the floor while stepping out of my shoes and allowing my pants drop in a similar fashion. "I asked you if you liked it, Mercedes. Now, if you want any of this dick," I placed my thumbs in the waistband of my boxers pulling them down slightly to reveal the start of my shaft, "you're going to have to answer me."

"Okay," came her terse reply.

"Do you want some of this dick, Mercy?"

"Uh-huh."

"You can do better than that, sweetie. Answer me proper. Do you want some of this dick?" I inched my boxers further and further down and watched her breath hitch as my dick jumped out to greet her.

"Yes," she said quickly.

"That wasn't so hard was it?" I said, giving her ass a determined pat. I smoothed my hands over her rear, smacking her as I pleased and delighting in the requests of "More" and "Harder." Taking note of the increasing trail of cum running down her inner thigh, I decided to stop and bid that she turn over again.

When she situated, I lay myself on top of her as a hoarse whisper of "Fuck me," left her parted plump lips and it took more will power than I thought myself capable of not to give in to her demand. I rubbed my cock against her midsection, feeling the little puddle of precum on her belly; I dragged myself further up her body, stopping when my cock rested in the space between her breasts. I pushed her tits together and began to rock my hips as I stroked her nipples with my thumbs. The thrusting was getting me there and when I grabbed a handful of her hair and brought her mouth to meet the tip of my swollen cock I almost came. Jerking into her surprised mouth, I had to quickly pull back out and will myself not to come, not yet.

A few gentle taps of my cock against her lips had her tongue darting out to taste me. I let her suck me, moaning my satisfaction as she swirled her tongue around me. Pulling away was difficult but as I settled myself between her legs, I knew I was headed for greater things. I teased her opening, ignoring the rising of her hips to greet the dick that longed for nothing else in the world but to be fitted inside of her, swelled and swaddled in her. I kept us separated long enough for her to beg me; doing everything she could to join our bodies together. A strangled cry left my mouth when I entered her and began to push my way into the space that always welcomed me warmly. I moved in and out of her, lifting her legs high and working to get more with every thrust to appease my starving cock.

More of Mercedes was never enough and even after her walls began to clench rapidly around me, I fought to stay inside of her, not quite ready to relinquish my place. I leaned over her as I continued to thrust against the hips that met mine lazily as she came down from her orgasm. I kissed into the curve of her neck, whispering her praises against her skin. The kisses turned to gentle bites and the whispers to grunts as I felt the stirring in my stomach and the tightening in my balls. I came inside of her, choking on each and every word that wanted to leave my mouth and ending up speechless, powerless to close my o-shaped mouth. I breathed against her, praying for my heart to settle and for the strength to return to my limbs.

After a moment's rest, she nudged me gently with her legs and when I removed myself from the crook of her neck to meet her eyes, I didn't stop myself from returning the contended smile she wore. She pointed me in the direction of the key sitting atop my dresser and wrapped her arms around my neck as soon as her hands were free. I feel asleep within her hold, dozing to the quiet chorus of "I love you's" pouring generously from her lips.

I awoke to my baby riding her fingers, her head thrown back and her body lifting up from the damp, twisted sheets beneath us. I tried to lean over, to give her a hand, only to realize that I was now attached to the headboard in the same position she'd been in last night. She didn't notice I was awake until I began to struggle against the cuffs, my body doing everything in its limited power to attach itself to her. When she heard a grunt of her name, her eyes flipped open and she watched my struggle for a moment, replacing her frantic fingering with long, leisurely strokes in and out of her center.

"Are you going to let me go?" I questioned, pulling against the cuffs to no avail.

She grinned, before shrugging nonchalantly, "Maybe later, but for now, you just have to watch."

And I did just that. I watched as Mercy closed her eyes and ignored me attempting to get closer to her. She continued her strokes, picking up her pace and accenting her actions with a bevy of heated moans. Every once in a while she'd open her eyes and cast a smug glance in my frustrated direction but she didn't fully acknowledge me until she was bringing her soaked fingers to her lips and licking each of them from knuckle to nail teasingly.

"Do you want to fuck me Sammy?" she asked running her wet fingers along my lips. I nodded, accepting the digits into my mouth and sucking what little I could from them.

"I can't hear you," she teased, pulling her fingers from me.

A simple, quiet "Yes" soon led to screams of the word as Mercy slid herself down on my cock and began to rock against me. I enjoyed the torture, happy to be submissive for the time being and flexing my toes in preparation for the vigorous release that would no doubt soon be taking over my body. As I brought my hips up to meet hers I could already tell that this weekend wouldn't be long enough.


	8. Hate to Hate You

**First, I'd like to apologize for this being so long. I got a bit carried away with the prompt but I hope it's worth the read.**

**Second, I made it back safe from vacation!  
**

**Third, enjoy! and remember to review and keep sending in those prompts/requests.**

**_This one-shot features: enemy samcedes, sex, scrabble, and rain. _  
**

* * *

If he had to hear that fucking laugh again he was going to rip his own ears off. Just tug and tug and tug until his flesh gave and he would be too busy bleeding profusely to hear that grating giggle ever again.

"Tana, you are crazy!" she yelled, finally calming her laughing fit.

They were only ten minutes into their shared glee class and he was already balling his fists, steadying himself, in order to resist the urge to tell her just how much he hated everything that she chose to be.

A poke in the ribs from Puck, who sat combing his fingers idly through the thick landing strip of hair in the center of his head, brought him out of his normally scheduled 'let's remember just how much we hate Mercedes Jones' thought time.

"Stare a little harder, man. I think you could put a hole through her if you really wanted to."

Sam narrowed his eyes at Mercedes who seemed to be paying him no attention as she busied herself with yet another conversation. _Does she ever shut up? _"I don't know what you're talking about," Sam replied still not taking his eyes off her.

"Dude! You're doing it now. You're _always _staring at her," Puck commented with a suggestive eyebrow raise.

"Trust me, it's not for the reasons you think."

"Please enlighten me."

"She annoys me, I don't like the girl."

"We're talking about Momma, right? How does _she_ annoy you?"

"Does it matter? I just don't like her." He finally pried his eyes away to look at Puck who wore a grin so wide Sam began to feel uncomfortable.

"Seriously, man, what is there not to like? She's smart, funny, sweet yet she doesn't take any shit, which I personally enjoy by the way, and look at her, she's got that adorably sexy thing going on. Those eyes and lips of hers, and don't even get me started on that ass and those hips of hers. Hey, that kind of rhymed. Maybe I should be a -"

"No, no you shouldn't."

"Whatever. All I'm saying is that maybe you should give Mercedes another look. You might like what you see."

"I highly doubt that."

* * *

Normally, Mercedes didn't mind staying after school. In fact, she enjoyed any time that kept her from having to go home to an empty house when her parents were out of town. They were in Atlanta this week at another Dentistry convention and she was left home alone with her brother Troy popping in and out during his break from school. She also didn't mind devoting all the time she could to one of her passions. So, when Mr. Schue suggested that the class stay after school to decide on a song for a special school performance and get in a little extra practice, Mercedes was glad to do so.

The glee club teacher seemed to be the only one with a little pep in his step as the hours ticked by and the number of glee club members dwindled down to no one other than Mercedes, a somewhat sleeping Brittany nodding against her shoulder, Rachel, and Finn by default, Kurt, and Sam who hadn't stopped tapping his foot against the back of her chair since he sat down behind her.

She wanted to smack some sense into the blond jock that hadn't had a single nice thing to say to her since the two exchanged their first hellos. Mercedes was sure Sam went out of his way to be a pain in her ass and if he wasn't careful she would be forced to take the _boy_ to the carpet.

"Can you please stop?" she hissed, trying not to roust Brittany. Rachel was still demanding something else of Mr. Schue, which gave everyone else a few minutes to themselves.

Sam pulled his foot back, examining it and the bottom of her chair before glaring up at Mercedes. "I'll do as I damn well please. Feel free not to talk to me."

_What the fuck did he just say? _The "fuck you" was more than ready to leave her mouth but it didn't make it out as Kurt slipped into the vacant seat beside her and disrupted the near altercation.

"Mercy, I'm going to head out. I know you wanted to outlast Rachel but I can't tonight. Blaine and I are going to -"

"Say no more," she shrugged dismissing his excuse. "I'll just get Troy to pick me up since he's on break this week. You should take this one home though; I think she's about had it."

He eyed Brittany, who failed once again to keep her eyes open. "Can you help me get her to the car?"

"No problem."

The two helped Brittany from her chair and after a quick stop at Kurt's locker, they helped the blond cheerleader into the front seat of Kurt's car.

"So did I step in just in time to stop you from kicking Sam's butt or what?" Kurt questioned, shutting the car door once he'd buckled Brittany in.

Mercedes rolled her eyes and sighed, "You don't even know the half of it, Kurt. I can't stand that damn boy. I swear, he just irks the living shit out of me."

Mercedes was already incensed at just the thought of the alleged jerk. Kurt shook his head and commented quietly, "Just fuck and get it over with."

"What?" she said, shaking out of her Sam-related seething session.

"Nothing honey, just try not to kill him when you go back in there."

"I make no promises, love."

"Please be good. We are still going shopping this weekend in Columbus and I need you not to be in jail."

"I'll try, but maybe someone should tell Sam to stop being such an asshole."

"One day at a time. Just make it through tonight, okay?"

"Fine," she huffed.

"That's my girl. I'll buy you something special on Saturday." He left her with a kiss on the cheek and a reassuring squeeze of her hand.

She counted backwards from ten as she reentered the building but when Mercedes reached the classroom, she was relieved to notice that Sam had already left. Not so pleased to find that everyone else seemed to be on their way out as well. Rachel and Finn walking past her arguing about something she didn't quite catch and Mr. Schue handing her a sheet of music for the song, that was apparently decided on in her few minutes of absence, and wishing her a good night.

She grabbed her bag from the choir room and made a stop at her locker, lingering over the items, then beginning to fume when she finally noticed the lyrics Mr. Schue had handed her. Of course she didn't have too prominent of a part, of course not, she wasn't Rachel. What caught her attention, and sparked her annoyance, was the sight of her and Sam's names scrawled together and joined with a thin plus sign over the bridge of the song.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," she sighed, throwing her head back. Shoving everything else she needed for the night into her book bag, she trudged to the exit and to a bench in front of the school where she plopped down and begun her indeterminate wait for her older brother. She read over a few old texts on her cell phone including one from Kurt reminding her that she should try and not kill Sam tonight. The text made her giggle, covering her face as she did so and looking a bit crazy as she sat on the bench alone.

The time passed slowly but soon Mercedes noticed that she had been waiting for a full half hour. She called her brother three times before he answered. When he did, she heard the whine of an obviously putout female voice in the background.

"Seriously, Troy you said you were coming to get me!" she screeched into the receiver, knowing too well what her brother was up to.

"I'm sorry, Merce. I got a little tied up. Just give me like another twenty minutes."

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't need you. You know my car is in the shop, right? How can you be so inconsiderate?"

"I said I was sorry, damn. You've already been at school all night, Merce just wait a little longer."

She scoffed, "So you know, don't expect me to keep quiet about that D you got on your last quiz in your anatomy class. No more favors for you, jerk."

"Don't be that way Merce -"

"Goodbye Troy." She ended the call and searched frantically through her phone for anyone else she could call for a ride, trying to ignore the tears gathering in her eyes or the infrequent raindrops beginning to fall around her.

* * *

She looked upset. Sam spent enough time staring at Mercedes to know when something was getting on her nerves. The toothy smile that usually inhabited her face was distinctly gone as she sat on a bench outside of school. He remembered her giving up her ride home from Kurt and she was probably waiting on whoever Troy was. He hadn't seen any of their other friends on his way out of the building and the empty parking lot showed the same signs of desertion as the hallways.

He didn't know why but he began walking in her direction. Was that a tear on her cheek? Something in him wanted to reach over, cup her plump cheek and swipe the tear away gently with his thumb. The thought stopped him in his tracks, forcing him to shove his hands into his pockets just in case he couldn't control the mysterious urge. His hands clenched inside of his jeans as he walked up beside her and he had to still yet another urge to touch her, to swipe the thick curtain of hair over her shoulder and wrap an arm around her. No. He couldn't do that.

He settled for something less _intimate_. "Would you like a ride?" he asked after summoning the courage a deep breath brought. She jumped at the sound of his voice and looked up to acknowledge him, looking away again quickly as she swiped the lone tear from her face.

"Why?" she asked stiffly, not bothering to look in his direction again.

_What a bitch._ "Because it's starting to rain and I'm trying to do something nice." He had only been talking to her for a few seconds yet he was already losing patience with the short girl.

He didn't expect the dry laugh that came out of her, "That's a good one. What are you going to do, leave me by the side of the road in the middle of nowhere?"

Stepping in front of her, blocking her view of whatever she was staring at in order to not look at him he asked, "Why would I do that? What kind of person do you think I am?"

Through a roll of her eyes, he finally caught her stare. "That's a great question actually. I guess you're not as dumb as you look."

"Fuck you," he spat, still staring deeply into her brown eyes. He was starting to get wet from the increasing amount of rain but didn't care enough to leave.

"I don't even have to prove my point now because you just did. Why would you offer me a ride or anything else? What do you get out of doing something nice for me? You _hate_ me."

He backed off slightly, averting his eyes, "I never actually said that to you."

"I can feel it, Sam. You're always glowering at me like you're trying to light me on fire with your mind."

"Isn't the feeling mutual?"

"You're not exactly my favorite person but I don't know you well enough to hate you."

"Right. Just well enough to never include me in anything you do. Well enough to think I'm stupid or to ignore me unless you've got some snarky comment."

"I don't exactly see you singing my praises for anything ever. Also, if you ask anyone, I don't turn people away but I'm not rolling out the red carpet for you to sit with me at lunch or hang out with me. I don't have time for that."

"You don't have time to be nice to someone who is still kind of new and trying to find his place?"

"You found a place in Santana," she whispered, shifting her glare to her black boots. A roar of thunder was right on time behind her biting words.

"What?"

"You heard me." She looked up at him again, a scowl forming. "We're in different places popularity-wise, Evans. You don't need me to make you feel welcome, especially not when you've got Cheerio ass being thrown at you left and right."

"Who says I want any of it?" The question came out louder than he intended but for a reason he couldn't comprehend, he felt the need to defend himself in front of Mercedes. "Who says I want to be around any of those people more than I have to?" She didn't respond, only crossed her arms across her chest and clenched her jaw. "Look, do you want the fucking ride or not? Because I don't have to stand here and get soaked for you."

"Fine. Let's get this over with already." She shot up from the bench and followed him to his truck. The gentleman in him forced him to open the passenger door as she reached for the handle, causing their hands to touch and a sudden shock to go through Sam's body. He blamed the spark on friction and tried not to notice the abrupt fluttering of Mercedes' eyelashes as she pulled her hand from the door and cradled it in the other. _Did she feel that too? _He quickly shook it off as he watched Mercedes toss her bag into the front seat and try and fail to lift herself in behind it. He covered his face to hide the smirk that came as he watched her.

After another failed attempt, she turned to face him with her hands on her hips, "You're really just going to stand there and watch me struggle?"

"I'm sorry, it's kind of cute. You're so damn little."

"It's kind of what?"

"Nothing. Here, let me help you."

She turned back around and he placed his hands on her sides. Her breath hitched and he felt that shock again, he felt his entire body covered in prickles and when Mercedes settled herself, he saw the confused look on her face. Whatever it was, he didn't want to talk about it. He closed the door behind her and hopped into the driver's seat, immediately switching on the radio, lights, and windshield wipers in a few quick movements.

The directions to her home were simple enough and she managed to give them without saying something mean. After a few commercials, the music kicked back in and the sounds of Pistol Annie's "Hell on Heels" filled the car, quickly joined by Mercedes sweet, low voice. He reached a stop light and was finally able to watch her other than just glancing at her peripherally.

"_He made me pretty, he made me smart, and I'm gonna break me a million hearts," _she sang, staring out the window at the storm in front of them. She blinked rapidly at a flash of lighting but kept singing. "_I'm hell on heels, baby I'm coming for you._" She turned to him at the last part, smiling and hiding her face when she realized he'd been watching her.

"You like country?" he asked in disbelief.

She shrugged, "Music is music really. I have my favorites but I don't discriminate against anything just because it's in a certain genre."

"That's good of you - very open-minded."

They didn't talk for the rest of the ride but the lack of conversation wasn't uncomfortable as Sam always imagined it would be if he ever had to spend any time alone with Mercedes. He could actually say he enjoyed the time with her where he got the pleasure of listening to her softly sing song after song of Top 40 country hits.

* * *

Mercedes wasn't sure how she felt about Sam staring at her while she sang. She was used to signing in front of people but it was rare that she had an audience of one and especially not one that seemed so captivated by her. Her seatbelt only allowed for so much squirming in her seat so she settled for looking anywhere but at the green eyes that could be watching her every time the car came to a stop. A strange feeling of warmth washed over her whenever she looked into Sam's eyes. Normally, she had to look away after a few moments, unable to take the intensity. She blamed it on her hatred for the guy and had no desire to take the time to dissect the feeling any further. A sigh of relief left her as Sam turned onto her street and pulled into her family's empty driveway soon after.

Sam let out a low whistle, "Shit, your house is huge."

"And very fucking dark," she said, peering through the sheets of rain. There was normally light somewhere in the house, they always left a lamp on in the living room and another one upstairs to make sure the house never looked uninhabited.

"Everything okay?" _Why does he care?_

"I don't know. Hell, the whole block looks dark. I wonder if there was a blackout." Another rumble of thunder and show of lighting answered her question. "Fuck me."

"You want me to go in with you?"

"And do what?"

He turned off the car, "Just stay until the lights come on."

"You're not exactly my idea of perfect company but -"

"But?"

She sighed, pushing her pride aside for the moment, "I kind of have a thing with darkness. If my parents were home I'd be okay but they're out of town, _again_."

"Do they go a lot?"

"More than most parents do, I suppose. It's nice to have a little alone time but there are only so many dinners I can have by myself before I lose my mind."

"Maybe we don't like each other Mercedes but I can't see a fucking thing to drive home right now and you don't wanna be alone-"

"I didn't say that."

"You don't have to. All I'm saying is we could do each other a small favor tonight. I don't have to wreck my car in this shitstorm and you don't have to eat dinner alone in your pitch dark place."

"Fine." She returned the smile he offered, glad to have company for a few hours.

"Step one, let's get out of the car." He unbuckled her seat belt and grabbed her book bag from the floor, tossing it over his shoulder. "Count of three?" She nodded, her smile widening. "One, two, three!" They both leapt from the car and ran the short distance to her front door. Mercedes patted her pockets before remembering that her keys were in her book bag. She let out a chuckle as she turned a soaking-wet Sam around to retrieve her keys from her bag.

"What's step two?" she asked, locking the door behind them once they entered her home. She slipped out of her boots and Sam did the same laying his black converse next to where she sat her shoes near the door.

"Do you guys have any candles?"

"Yeah, there are some in the living room I think, the den, and a few upstairs."

"Take me to whichever ones are closest."

"The den." She pulled out her cell phone and used it to illuminate the way down the hallway that led to their family room. She didn't mind that Sam grabbed her hand, attempting to follow her steps exactly so as not to bump into anything but she did mind the heat his touch sent through her body. He seemed to somehow be just as overheated as she was despite the cool house and their drenched bodies.

When they reached the den, she walked them over to a large entertainment center that spanned across most of the wall and held the Jones family's impressive DVD, CD, and even VHS collection. Sliding open a large wooden panel, she reached up to grab the candles she knew were kept in case of an emergency.

"Uh, Sam?" she said, dropping from her tiptoes.

"Yeah?" he rumbled, the light on her phone went out while she prodded inside of the cabinet and she hadn't realized how close he was.

"I need you - um - I - uh - need your help. I can't reach." _Why am I so damn flustered all of a sudden?_

He chuckled, "You are so totally pocket-sized, Jones. Are your parents super short too?"

"My dad is actually like 5'11 but my mom is only 5'2. I'm lucky I got to be as tall as I did."

Laughing again, he moved closer, resting a hand on her hip and not giving her the chance to move as he pressed against her. His hand lingered on her side and she wondered if it was on purpose. She felt the spark that went through her body when he touched her again, the same jolt that shocked her when they both reached for the handle on the car door.

He was close enough to smell her perfume, to fully take in and appreciate her sweet aroma. Something about Mercedes was tempting him and he found it harder to resist as they lit the candles and she led him upstairs. Again, he reached for her hand, getting used to the shiver it sent through him when he wrapped his fingers around her small ones. She led him down a hall and up a few more steps until they reached a purple door decorated only with her name written across it in a golden-hued script. She opened the door and Sam was less than surprised at what he saw. A queen-sized canopy bed with purple and white sheets with gold accent pillows arranged just so took up most of the room. Across from the bed was a storage bench with a gaggle of stuffed animals sitting on top of it and a framed picture of what appeared to be Mercedes and her immediate family hanging above it. She looked just like her mother, short and thick with a sweet smile and dark hair. Her brother looked like a bit of a goofball but her dad had enough seriousness for the four of them. Sam shuddered at ever having to meet the man and brushed away the thought quickly. _We're not even friends_.

The rest of the spotless room held various knickknacks and accoutrement that all reminded him of Mercedes. Framed and signed posters of Beyoncé and Whitney Houston hung side by side near a flat screen TV and comfortable-looking black couch with more pillows. Two big windows on either side of the bed draped with gold curtains and two purple doors one probably leading to a closet and the other a bathroom, completed the room Sam didn't find himself feeling uncomfortable in.

"I hope you don't mind coming up here, I just hate being downstairs, it always feels so empty down there when it's dark."

"It's no problem." She sat her candle on a large cream-colored dresser and began to go through one of the drawers. All of her clothing was neatly organized, folded into stacks by color and she quickly went through and pulled out two items of clothing that she tossed onto her bed.

She moved toward the door, taking his candle, "I'll be right back. I'm going to grab something for you to change into."

"You don't have to do that."

"Yeah, I do. You're not sitting on my couch all wet, Evans. I'll get you something of my brother's and you can keep it because he's a jackass."

He smiled, combing a hand through his wet hair and taking in the rest of her room. He noticed the pictures on her dresser. A framed shot of the glee club; one with Mercedes and a very pregnant Quinn, their hands forming a heart over the blond girl's tummy; one of her, Tina, and Kurt in a line, each messing around in the other's hair; one of her wrapped around Artie and applying a kiss to his cheek as the bespectacled guy beamed wildly; there was even one of her and Puck where she wore a Cheerio uniform and a blinding smile and Puck looked just as happy with his arms wrapped around her middle lovingly as he kissed the side of her neck. His favorite photo was of her and what looked like her brother during a Halloween that probably wasn't too long ago. She wore a full bunny costume complete with a bushy tail and alert ears while her brother opted for a Spiderman suit. He had to smile at how adorable she looked, how happy she looked. He wanted to see more of the Mercedes he saw in these photos and not the often glaring, temperamental one who seemed to get along with everyone but him.

"Oh God, please don't look at those," she panicked, pulling the photo from his hands and setting it face down on the dresser.

"Why not? They're pretty darn cute," he grinned, taking the clothes she shoved at him.

"There is that word again. You do not think I am cute Sam Evans. Now go change before I have to hide my things from you. There are towels in the cabinet and you can put your clothes in here." She ushered him toward a purple door handing back his candle and a plastic grocery bag for his wet stuff and closing the door behind him. Her bathroom matched her room with white fixtures accented with golden handles here and there and a purple rug, shower curtain, and toilet seat cover. He hadn't noticed he was smiling the entire time he changed until he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror above her sink. Never could he have expected himself to be wearing one of Mercedes' brother's Ohio State t-shirts and shorts, while in her bathroom, and actually in a great mood while he did so. He shrugged off the feeling of glee and went back out to her room, joining her on the couch and sitting his candle on the coffee table where she was busy setting up a game of Scrabble for the two of them to play. She had pulled her wet hair back into a loose bun and changed into a black V-neck top and a pair of gray shorts that kept Sam staring at her chocolate thighs. _I bet she's so damn soft._

"What if I wanted to play something different?" he sassed as she handed him the bag of letters.

"You took too long so I just decided for us. If you hate it we can play something else."

"I don't hate it, it's just kind of a tough game when you're dyslexic," he looked away, half expecting her to laugh at his admission.

"Oh," she gasped softly. "I-I-I'm so sorry, I didn't know - " she stuttered, obviously flustered.

He smiled tenderly, "You couldn't have, it's not something I shout from the rooftops." She nodded and he wanted to nip the thick bottom lip poking out from the embarrassed pout she wore. "We can still play; you just have to go easy on me."

"Are you sure? We have Monopoly, Life, Sorry, Trouble, Pictionary, Apples to Apples, UNO, Candy Land, Chutes and Ladders, Clue -"

"It's fine, Mercedes. You can keep score though and I get to go first."

"Okay."

Mercedes was beyond kind and understanding as the two played. She ditched her normal rule of using a timer for each person's turn and waited patiently as Sam figured out each of his moves. The rain continued outside, intermittently marked with booms of thunder and flashes of lighting that lit up Mercedes' whole room. He didn't care how long he'd have to wait before the storm lightened up enough for him to home, but he hoped the rain wouldn't stop its heavy falling any time soon.

Their game ended when each of them ran out of letters and Sam was pleased to find that he only lost to Mercedes by twenty points. He congratulated himself with a celebratory fist pump and for the first time, he didn't shutter when she giggled at his actions. That laugh was _for _him, _because_ of him, and Sam liked the feeling.

* * *

Mercedes wanted to thank Sam for staying with her for the evening, for not making her sit in her dark house alone, huddled under her covers and praying for any one of her family members to return. She hated darkness, it always made her think of all the things in life that could go wrong, that had gone wrong, and by the time she found light again she'd be depressed and lonelier than she ever thought possible. Instead of a verbal thank you, she offered to make Sam something to eat, an offer he gratefully accepted as the two made their way to the kitchen. She grabbed his hand this time, no longer worried about any possible meaning behind the gesture, it just felt right and she chose not to question it.

Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches were all Mercedes could offer, seeing as she couldn't use the microwave to heat any of the prepared meals her mother had left for her and her brother for the week. They stood at the kitchen counter eating and talking about school. Sam shared a few interesting football team stories and Mercedes gushed about an exciting upcoming project in her English class where she'd get the opportunity to study graphic literature. Sam was happy to recommend some of his favorite graphic novels and she thanked him for his help.

"Are you alright?" he asked. Mercedes eyes bugged when she realized she'd been caught staring at him. She was trying to decide whether she should wipe the adorable smudge of peanut butter from the side of his face.

"Um, yeah. You've got something here," she pointed to his face and the area where the offending glob sat. She brushed his hand away when he went for the wrong side of his face, rubbing his skin and coming up with nothing. Using her thumb, she wiped the peanut butter away, instinctively biting her bottom lip as she did so, and couldn't pull her hand back fast enough before Sam gently grabbed her wrist and sucked her thumb into his mouth, removing the peanut butter in one swipe and offering her hand back. _Shit, that was hot._

A cool shower would definitely be in order once Sam left her home but for now, she was stuck with him and had to quell every impulse she had to give in to whatever voice in the back of her head was nagging her to straddle Sam and show him just how alright she could be.

"Mercedes?"

"Huh?" she was staring at him again, this time as the two sat back on the couch in her room talking about something she didn't remember.

"You just looked like you spaced out there. Are you sure you're okay?" He placed a hand over hers and she nodded, pushing down the nervousness welling up within her.

"I'm fine." _No I'm not, Sam. I kind of want to jump your bones right now and I don't know why._

The conversation was light, fun even. The two were not short on topics of discussion and actually found out they had more in common than they once thought.

"Just imagine," Sam said, lifting to stretch and allowing his arm to settle on the back of the couch behind Mercedes' head, "We could have been friends all this time instead of hating one another."

"I know, right?" she laughed, gripping his knee. "The dork and the diva. We could have made a great team."

"The _sexy _dork and the _cute _diva," he corrected.

"You have to stop with that word," she looked down at the pillow in her lap, beginning to play with the fringes around the edge of it, "You don't think I'm cute," she said almost silently.

"Why don't I? Do people not tell you that?"

"Actually, I kind of hear it all the time."

"So why can't I say it?"

"I don't know, it just feels kind of weird coming from you." His smirk was infectious and she rolled her eyes playfully, admitting, "I'm fine with being called cute. Though, I do wish that someone would throw around the word 'sexy' a time or two. That couldn't hurt."

"You are sexy," he said seriously.

"Stop."

"Why? You are. People tell me I'm sexy all the time but I'd love for someone to hear me speak Na'vi or hear one of my lame jokes and tell me I'm cute." The candlelight flickering across his face allowed Mercedes to see the slight frown he wore, "I'd give anything for that."

"You are cute," she offered, leaning in closer and tightening the grip on their held hands.

"Stop."

"Seriously," she leaned closer, tugging Sam's hand until he looked at her, "I never thought I'd admit this, but that was the first thing I thought about you when you joined Glee club. You remember Sam I Am? That was fricken adorable. And just a moment ago I was reminded of how cute you can be when you had that peanut butter on your face." She moved a few locks of his short hair from his forehead and gently drug her hand along the side of his face to touch the spot on his cheek her thumb wiped earlier. He leaned into her touch, wrapping his fingers around her other wrist and pulling her until he got her nestled between his legs. She didn't even think to struggle, feeling more than comfortable leaning against Sam's strong chest as he arms wrapped his arms around her middle. Yep, she was totally comfortable except for the throbbing that began between her thighs as he grazed his hand up her open legs, tickling her inner thighs with his light touches. _Oh, shit._

He placed a gentle kiss to the spot just beneath her ear lobe and she felt her heart rate quicken. The feeling of Sam's warm breath against the back of her neck already had her coming undone and she didn't even know if he was planning to go beyond a few light touches.

"And I remembered how sexy you are the moment you put those shorts on," he rasped, licking the shell of her ear and running his hand up her thigh and beneath the bit of fabric she called shorts. She put a hand over his, stilling his moments and allowing herself to think for a moment. It took less than that to decide that she wanted whatever was going to happen between the two of them to happen, figuring it to be another necessary step in the process of relieving the tension between the two of them. She turned to face him, capturing his lips in a short sweet kiss. His smirk was as present as ever but this time it was combined with a dark look in his normally bright eyes. It drew her in, drew her mouth to his again in a series of measured, passionate kisses.

Taking a breath, Mercedes pulled Sam's hands away and lifted from the couch, sitting back down on top of him, straddling his lap. She was barely in place before he pulled her to him, pressing his lips to hers in an igniting kiss. They kept their hands in check at first, she only allowing hers to run through his blond locks and play with the hair at the nape of his neck and he only pulling out her hair tie and threading his fingers through the sheet of black hair that fell around her shoulders.

* * *

Sam was quickly losing himself in Mercedes. He had only wanted to kiss her, to suppress any of the doubtful thoughts she had about herself but mostly to thank her for being so kind to him when she certainly didn't have to. She offered him a place to spend the evening, dry clothes, a meal, and plenty of wonderful conversation. As he nibbled on the lips he'd been wanting to taste all night, he realized the kiss had quickly gone from thankful to lustful in a minute. He parted his lips to speak, to ask her if she wanted to go further but when she slid her tongue into his mouth and used it to massage his own, he decided to allow her to show him exactly what she wanted.

His hands could play nice no longer and he didn't try and stop them from sliding down her body and bringing them to rest on her ass. She squealed when he smacked her bottom and thrust up allowing her to feel the growing erection in his lap.

"Sam," she moaned into his mouth, her breathing short and ragged from their intense kisses. When she pulled away from him, to pepper hot kisses down his neck and rake her nails against the front of his shirt, he took the opportunity to lift them from the couch and carry them over to her bed. He lay her down on her back, tossing aside some of the pillows before he climbed on top of her and resumed kissing her swollen mouth. _How can she taste so damn good?_

Pulling away, he stared into her dark, wanton eyes, "I want to do you another favor tonight, Mercedes. You don't have to return it but I want to do it for you."

"What's that?"

"Let me show you."

He leaned down, placing a lingering kiss on her lips before beginning a trail of kisses that became deeper as he moved down her body. A kiss on her bottom lip, her chin, her Adam's apple, her collarbone, on every piece of uncovered skin on her belly that was revealed as he slowly lifted her t-shirt up and off. He groaned at the sight of her breasts nearly bursting from the bra that struggled to contain them. Undoing the front clasp, he cursed under his breath before bending to apply soft, slow kisses to her skin, looking up at her while he licked around each of her nipples and drawing the taut buds into his mouth, sucking them until she writhed beneath him.

Sam wanted to take his time, to get to _know_ her properly and judging by the rain beating against the windows, he had plenty of time to do just that but Mercedes was moving beneath him, lifting her hips and rubbing her center against his tented shorts, moaning each time their bodies brushed together.

He decided to continue his trail of kisses down her body, stopping only to momentarily look up at her when he reached the band of her shorts. He placed a kiss on the black tie securing them around her waist before undoing it with his teeth. "Sam," she uttered, stopping him from pulling down her shorts after he hooked several fingers into them. "I don't want you to do this just because you feel the need to do me a favor. That just makes it sound like, like -"

Moving back up her body as she spoke, he cut her off by kissing her lips again. He spoke against her mouth, "Mercedes, I'm doing this because I want to, because I want you. Because all this time I've been staring at you don't think it went unnoticed to me that you're fucking hot - gorgeous. I've been meaning to tell you exactly that since I first laid eyes on you Miss Jones and I need that to be clear."

She searched his eyes, probably for sincerity, and he could feel her relax beneath it once she'd found it. "So what happens after tonight?"

"Whatever you want. But I can pretty much promise you that once won't be enough for either of us." Another kiss, deeper, longer. "Do you feel that when I kiss you?" She nodded, licking her lips. "I don't know what it is but I feel it every time we touch and when we kiss it's a thousand times worse, it's like I can't breathe for a minute."

"I know what you mean."

"Do you want me to stop?"

She kissed him this time, allowing her lips to linger against his, "No."

Leaving her with one more kiss, he moved back down her body, repeating his trail and picking up where he'd left off by placing a kiss to her center and rubbing against her with his fingers, searching for her clit and knowing he found it when he heard the loud moan of "Fuuuck," Mercedes let escape. The front of her shorts darkened as her arousal seeped through the fabric and he couldn't wait any longer to taste her, removing her shorts and her underwear in one swoop. He took a moment to take her in, drinking in her velvety form, breasts heaving and red in spots from the marks he'd left. Her breaths were slow and deep, moving her whole body as he reached her pussy, licking his lips as he watched her seeping onto the sheets below. He couldn't let any more of her go to waste and plunged between her legs, gripping her thighs and lapping her center with long, firm strokes.

If Sam would have known how good Mercedes tasted or how much he would love the sound of his name dripping from her lips as he plunged his fingers into her warmth and sucked steadily on her clit flicking the button with his tongue to bring her over the edge, he would have been between her legs sooner. He would have jumped at the opportunity to make peace with her. Knowing what he knew now, he wouldn't have wasted a single second arguing with her and instead he would have put his time to better use by being the cause of the string of curses that left her mouth.

He took the time to watch her as she came, taking note of the way her legs trembled and threatened to snap shut, her hips raised from bed as she continued to ride his fingers, and no words left her mouth just strong pants and clipped moans. His fingers were soaked and he was glad to pull the sticky digits into his mouth and lick them greedily as he stared at her

"I can't even tell you how that was," she admitted, hiding her face beneath her arm.

He pulled her arm away and offered her a finger he hadn't completely cleaned, which she accepted into her mouth right away. "Who are you telling? You are unreal, Jones. Sexiest shit I've ever seen in my life." He pulled his fingers away and replaced them with his lips, the two of them sharing in her essence.

Various bites and nips were exchanged between the two until Mercedes tugged Sam away by his hair, "Fuck me." He nodded, scrambling from the bed to find his bag of clothes and pull a condom out from his wallet. Returning to the bed, he took his shirt off slowly, teasing Mercedes who hummed appreciatively as he revealed his body to her. He was quick to remove his shorts and boxers, smiling smugly at hearing Mercedes gasp when his fully erect member greeted her.

"I don't know about that - it's uh - fuck," she stammered unable to pry her eyes from his cock. She moved to the edge of bed, gently taking his dick into her hand and examining it thoughtfully. Carefully, she licked the head, shrugging at the taste before taking the whole thing into her mouth. He gathered her hair from her face and used his hold on her to guide her movements at first, gripping tighter when she found a rhythm, allowing her mouth to take all she could into her mouth and her hand to massage the rest of his shaft. The grip of her cheeks against him was more than enough for him to come right then and there but he wasn't ready to do so just yet.

"Mercedes," he growled, softly pushing her away. She released him with a pout and he kissed her lips, ushering her back onto the bed with his body as he positioned himself on top of her.

* * *

It had been a little while since Mercedes had been with someone and she certainly hadn't expected her next sexual partner to be Sam. But she couldn't fight the attraction she felt for him. Normally, if there was someone she disliked she didn't think of them in that way. However, things were different with Sam. Despite the fact that he tended to get on her very last nerve, she couldn't fight the feeling s of her attraction. Hell, if she were being completely honest, she'd have to fess up to that _one _time she moaned his name in height of her solo time.

She worried her bottom lip as Sam sheathed himself. Looking up at her, he gave her a lopsided smile and asked if she was ready. She didn't answer right away, taking a deep breath to attempt to find the courage of facing the monster he held between his legs. It was one thing having it in her mouth and though she ached for him in her center, throbbed for him to be inside of her, she was still slightly scared of the prospect of him filling her. _There is no way that damn thing is going to fit inside of me._

"It's not your first time is it, Jones?" he teased, balancing himself above her. "I'll go easy on ya."

She narrowed her eyes and pulled Sam to her for a kiss. Taking advantage of his distraction, she flipped the two of them over. "I could ask you the same question." Sam was so obviously baiting her, trying to make her admit that she was somewhat daunted by his girth but she wasn't going to admit that. Not today, not ever.

"You wanna be in charge, huh? Show me what you've got, shortcake." She silenced any of his further smart remarks with a slap to his chest as she lifted herself onto his cock. A silent appeal went through her head and she silently pleaded that she not be split in two as lowered herself onto Sam.

He hissed, grabbing her hips and helping to guide her further downward. "You are so tight, woman."

She let out an exhausted moan when she could go no further and lifted herself back up, feeling empty for a second before sliding slowly back down. Sam helped her along, moving his hands to grip her ass and thrusting his hips upward to meet her and pulling her forward to graze her clit with each thrust. His thrusts became quicker, harder, and she had to lean over, unable to hold herself up with Sam's movements. He flipped them over again, never pulling out of her and continuing to thrust quickly. She grabbed his biceps and he slowed, taking the time to kiss her lips, her neck, her breasts and whisper just how good she felt, how good _they _felt.

First, she felt it in her stomach, the ripples of pleasure causing the muscles in her abdomen to stiffen. Then she felt it her pussy, her walls clenching the moment Sam reached a hand between them to strum her clit. She came, moaning things she didn't understand as Sam continued to drive into her. Soon after, she felt him coming, the strength of his release causing him to bite down on the flesh around her nipple as his thrusts became less frequent until he stopped moving completely. For a little while, he lay there, wrapping her legs around him to hold the two of them in place and breathing heavily against the spot in the crook of her neck he snuggled into. She didn't mind being so close to him and wished she'd had the opportunity to do it before. His body just seemed like it fit with hers and she couldn't help but whine a little when he decided to remove himself from her. A sweet kiss, calmed her while he disposed of the condom and returned to the bed immediately after. He lay beside her, pulling her into his arms once he was settled. She relaxed against him, grazing her fingers along his clammy chest while he ran his hands through her damp hair.

Sam was first to break the silence, "Why don't you like me?" he asked quietly.

She looked up at him, meeting his eyes in the sparsely lit room, "Honestly?"

"Please."

She took a deep breath, "Well, you're always staring at me like I killed your dog or something, you're always kicking the back of my chair. I've seen you rolling your eyes multiple times whenever I get up to sing and you're just pretty much one of the rudest people I've ever met. You don't respect me, Sam. What reason do I have to like you?"

"I'm sorry," he said looking away. She hadn't meant to make him feel bad but there was no reason for the two of them to be dishonest with one another considering what they had just finished doing.

"So why do you hate me?" she asked.

He let out a huff and ran a hand down his face, "It's stupid."

"My reasons weren't that meaningful, honey. We barely know each other; I'm not expecting anything too deep from you."

"You know firsthand, Miss Jones, that I can go _very_ deep."

She slapped his chest giggling, "Shut up."

"It's your laugh," he stared at her thoughtfully as the smile dropped from her face.

"What about it?"

"The first time I heard you laugh was when Puck told some stupid joke about my hair. Your laugh just kind of haunted me after that. It was like it was telling me that I was never going to fit in with you all. And every time I did or said something dumb I just kept hearing your laugh in my head, mocking me."

It was her turn to feel bad, "I don't even remember the joke," she said regretfully.

He shrugged, "Me neither - just the laugh that followed."

"I'm sorry." He kissed her forehead whispering that she was forgiven and she settled back against him.

After a few beats of silence she spoke again, "Make me laugh."

"What?"

"If we decide that were going to keep doing _this_ I don't want you getting out of the mood just because I have a giggle fit. Make me laugh so we can start associating that with good memories for you."

Sam was quick to oblige her request, pulling out a few impressions and silly knock-knock jokes that had tears gathering in Mercedes' eyes and her stomach sore from laughter.

"I think the rain stopped," she commented not wanting to look out of the window and see if her assumption was true.

"Yeah, I don't think I'm ready to go yet."

"Won't your parents mind you being home so late?"

"Nah, I told them I had to stay after school. I can just text them and tell them I'm staying with a friend tonight."

"So we're friends now?"

"After tonight, we may have to be more than that, but we can call it friends for now. I'm sure you'll be saying something different after round two though."

"Who says you get more?"

"I know you want more, my sexy diva and guess what?"

"What?"

"You can have all you want."

"You are so damn adorkable, Mr. Evans."

"You like it."

* * *

Sam still found himself tapping the back of Mercedes' chair the next day in glee club. He didn't even give her time to get settled in her seat before he began the action that he knew would get her attention.

She turned in her chair, eyebrows furrowed at their perceived regression. He gave her a nod, before patting the empty seat next to him and beckoning for her to take it. With a playful roll of her eyes, she got up and joined him in the back row laughing as she spread her leg out to tap against his foot and he wrapped his leg around hers, using it to pull her close enough to settle a hand on her thigh. He let his other arm rest around the back of her chair, discreetly running his fingers across her shoulders, through her hair and along the nape of her neck smiling when he noticed her beginning to shiver.

He leaned closer, whispering in her ear, "I think I forgot my clothes at your house last night."

She didn't turn to look at him as the classroom started to fill up with their friends. Aside from a smirk from Puck and a surprised glance from Kurt no one seemed to pay the two any mind. Mercedes kept her gaze trained forward as she spoke, "Well then, I guess you'll just to come back tonight and get them."

"Your parents still gone?"

"Does it matter?"

He thought about the man in the framed picture in her room, the somewhat burly man with the imposing stance and serious demeanor. Sam shrugged, quickly deciding that ten thousand meetings with the imposing person would be well worth another night with Mercedes.

He shrugged, "Guess not. I'll give you another ride after school, diva."

She finally cracked another smile for him and turned to look at him, "Or I can give you one," she commented with a wink, looking away again as their teacher walked in to start the class.

* * *

**Good? Bad? Totally shit? You want to have my babies? Let me know, reviews below. **


	9. With Friends Like These

**Hello! I'm sorry these come a few days after I post them to tumblr but writing late at night means I can't stay up to take care of everything. Anyway, here is another little one-shot.**

_I'd like to thank zeejack for requesting this one-shot._

_**This one-shot features: dating, high school samcedes, a table of teasing friends, back seat sex, and a little brown wolf.**  
_

* * *

_Fucking calculus book._

It was supposed to be a quick run - four, five minutes, tops.

The first minute, she was exiting the building, jingling her car keys as she headed to the parking lot. She spotted her little black sedan parked near the back and clicked the remote to unlock its doors as she came upon it. Catching a glimpse of herself in the dark windows, she could see her lips were still somewhat swollen and her neck still held some of the darkened red marks from last night.

_Sam._

The third minute, she leaned over into the backseat, searching through the bag of school supplies she hadn't needed for the day. She could still feel a slight pain in her lower back and the tenderness in her breasts as she moved against the seat.

The fourth minute, she felt a pair of large hands grabbing her sides and urging her into the car joined with force of a few thrusts from an excited midsection. When she felt the unmistakable feel of an erection pressed against her ass, she knew what was happening.

"Sam, we have to go back in," she warned, looking over her shoulder to see her boyfriend standing behind her, a smirk on his face and a familiar glint in his eye.

"In a minute, I promise." He kept pushing her into the car, and caught between Sam and the vehicle, Mercedes had to eventually comply. She sat with her arms crossed against her chest as she waited for Sam to climb in beside her and get settled.

"Don't look so glad to see me, babe. I haven't seen you since last night," he purred. Leaning closer, he swiped her hair over her shoulder and took advantage of her exposed neck, pressing his lips to it and sliding his tongue along her flesh, and taking the opportunity to freshen up some of the hickies she'd taken the time to cover this morning.

"Yeah, and I'm still sore from last night," she gave into the smile forcing its way onto her face as she felt Sam burrow his reddening face in her neck. The two of them had to look an absolute mess, both with puckered skin and sleepy eyes, Sam with a healthy amount of scratches - most, but not all, hidden by his t-shirt, and Mercedes with a noticeable limp and permanently flushed cheeks.

"Have I told you that I love you?" he rumbled against her skin.

She softened, sighing, "Not since my good morning text."

He stopped his kisses and placed a finger under her chin to turn her face to his. Her big eyes never failed to pull the words out of him whether he wanted to say them or not, but he always wanted to say them. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"How about a good morning kiss?"

Before she could answer, Sam leaned in and captured her plump lips with his own pouty pair. He pried her lips apart with his tongue, probing her mouth until she moaned into the heated gesture. When she wrapped a small hand around his neck and let the other fall to his knee, Sam knew she was a goner. His hand found its way under her blouse, cupping her breasts and teasing her nipples through her bra.

In the eighth minute, she was lying down on the back seat as Sam hoisted up the leopard skirt she wore. He nipped her thighs teasingly, massaging himself as he did so. Her underwear were off before she could think to lift herself to help Sam in removing them and not soon after, she felt Sam's tongue probing her warmth.

In the eleventh minute, Sam was still between her legs, running his fingers lazily along her center as he lapped up the last of her release.

In the thirteenth minute, she was still shivering, concentrating on every breath she took as Sam sheathed himself. He pressed into her gently, moaning her name adoringly, not forgetting to kiss her gently as he fitted himself deep within her.

Thirty minutes later, she was smoothing out the wrinkles in her skirt and swatting Sam's quick hands away from her body as they walked back toward the front doors of their school.

"I'm just trying to help, babe," he whined, as she pulled his hands from her backside.

"As much as I love your _help_, sweetie, we missed most of our lunch period."

He grinned, wrapping a long arm around her waist and pulling her to his side, "I'm not really hungry - I got my fill."

She narrowed her eyes at him, her mouth gaping and rendered speechless for a moment. Quickly recovering, and wiggling out of Sam's hold, she grabbed his hand and led him in the direction of the cafeteria, "Let's go. I'm putting you on a time out."

He followed behind her, smirking at her somewhat stiff walk. She had complained of a slight pain in her leg last night from the new position they tried out where Mercedes was forced to lean backwards with her legs bent and clinging to Sam's middle, but she insisted that they keep going. Sam was worried about her though she claimed to be fine, "So you're not going to let me ice your leg later?"

"Only if I can keep my pants on."

"Where's the fun in that?"

Once, in the cafeteria, they skipped the lunch line and headed straight for the table that housed most of their favorite classmates. A few heads turned in their direction as they neared the table, but no one said anything to the pair until they were both seated next to one another, sandwiched between Tina and Brittany. Sam didn't waste any time digging into the food their friends hadn't finished and quickly had a mouth full of French fries.

Kurt was first to speak, gently grabbing Mercedes' hand from across the table, "You okay, Diva? You look a little flushed."

"I'm fine - perfect." She plastered on an overly-enthusiastic smile, looking around the table to allow each of her friends a glimpse of the grin.

Tina placed a hand on her shoulder, concern in her eyes, she offered, "He's right, you look a little hot, sweetie. Why don't you let me take you to the bathroom? We can splash a little water on your face."

"_Put a little concealer on those hickies_," Kurt added, quickly glancing away to brush imaginary dust off Blaine's shoulder.

"You know you two almost missed the whole lunch period?" Rachel stated matter-of-factly.

"I needed a book from my car," Mercedes explained.

Sam swallowed hard, taking down his mouthful of food, "And I needed to uh - to help her."

"So that's why her hair is all messed up and you've got those scratches on your arms?" Artie pointed out, drawing attention to the places on Sam's biceps where Mercedes' nails had pressed hard enough to make more than a few indentations.

"Those look pretty fresh, dude. Get attacked by a wolf last night?" Puck questioned failing to hide the laugh he'd been holding in since the two sat down.

"Yeah, I think I saw that wolf," Blaine supplied, "Petite, brown, with thick black hair, bright red polish on her nails, _cute button nose_."

Catching onto the taunting, Finn added, "I know which one you're talking about! You should hear her_ howl_. I heard it in my room last night, kind of hot if you ask me."

Mercedes slouched in her seat, sinking lower as her friends continued their comments, "Please, can we talk about anything else?"

"What like your slight limp or either of your swollen lips? How about the fact that you still don't have the calculus book the two of you supposedly went to your car for? There are a wealth of topics we can cover," Quinn commented, clearly amused by the situation.

Kurt threw a finger into the air, "Oh! Let's start with the limp. What happened there, honey?"

"I hurt my leg," Mercedes commented meekly.

He threw his scarf over his shoulder and crossed his arms, "How?"

"She fell," Sam added quickly, "we were - we were -"

"Cleaning!" Mercedes blurted.

"Yeah, we were cleaning up my room and she fell over one of my um, things, whadya call it?" he snapped his fingers, trying to recall the simple word.

"Action figures!?" Mercedes offered rapidly.

"Yeah! She fell over one of those. You're fine now though, right babe?"

"Like I said, I'm perfect." She flashed another giant smile to their group of disbelieving friends.

"Next topic!" Santana demanded, slapping a hand against the table.

"The swollen lips?" Mike suggested. Sam side-eyed his supposed best friend and shook his head at the traitor.

"Oooh, I know! Bee stings!" Tina squealed.

Mike was quick with another subject, "How about the absent calculus book?"

"Fell down a sewer?" Santana guessed.

Brittany's response came right after, "Carried away by a colony of ants!"

"Lost in a mysterious fire!" Rachel added, her eyes wide with excitement.

"We were fucking," Sam admitted under his breath. Mercedes was quick to give him a poke to the side and an abrupt shake of her head.

Puck cupped a hand around his ear and leaned in, "What's that, Sammy-boy?"

"We were_ fucking_," he repeated, turning to face each of his friends.

"Ding ding ding ding ding!" he shouted. Sam huffed, and buried his face in his palms. "Don't hide your face, bro. There's no shame in a little afternoon delight."

"Please don't call it that," Mercedes begged, her voice muffled by her own hidden face.

"What should we say?"

"Getting your jollies?" Blaine proposed.

Brittany quirked an eyebrow in his direction, "Jolly like Santa?"

"Paying the milkman?" Artie recommended with a chuckle.

"Screwing," Santana deadpanned, with a smirk.

Finn was last to submit his suggestion, "Rocking the boat?"

Mercedes', head fell onto the table, cradled by her folded arms, "Oh God, no."

"We could call it _dance lessons_," Mike advised, ignoring the death glare from Sam.

"Or," Tina tickled Mercedes' side, forcing her to sit back up, "we could call it "going over a duet" like you two did on Monday night in the choir room."

"I'm never touching that piano again by the way," Quinn stated with a wink.

"Or aaaaany of the seats in the back row," Santana added.

"We wiped everything down," Mercedes pouted, her face completely warmed and flustered.

"And never finished that duet." Though Sam's admission earned him a grand eye roll from Mercedes, he had no trouble recognizing the smile pulling at her lips. Before anyone else could tease the two, the bell rang, dismissing the group from their lunch period. They all rose from their spots, gathering their things.

Kurt grabbed Mercedes' hand, with Tina joining him on the other side and Blaine rounding out the foursome, "Come along, sweetie, I'll get you some ice for your leg and that concealer we talked about." Mercedes didn't try to resist Kurt's persistent pulling and fell into step with him, waving a short goodbye to Sam. As they walked down the hall, she still couldn't quite hold up her head, each time she did she found one of her friends still smirking at her.

Tina tried to console her, "It's okay, Mercy. Remember, it was my turn last week when Mike couldn't do those spins because he "didn't have the energy"? I'm not even going to try and pretend like I wasn't the reason. Wear it like a badge of honor; there's no shame in giving it good and getting it even better." Mercedes had to smile; knowing that Sam definitely gave it good and she never dropped the ball on her end either.

Kurt could only shake his head at the two "sex goddesses", "Do we even know each other? What happened to my sweet girls?"

"You don't get to talk, Kurtie," Mercedes warned, feeling slightly better, "Do I have to remind you about the time you called me in a panic because you pulled out a clump of Blaine's hair?"

"Oh please, don't remind me. His little coif is still crooked. We covered it up nicely though, right? Right? Right!?" He glanced at Blaine for confirmation but was only met with a shrug as Blaine took to patting his hair self-consciously and the girls disappeared into a nearby bathroom.

* * *

_**Due to many many requests for a continuation of "Hate to Hate You," I've decided that I will be turning that one-shot into a short fic (6 or 7 chapters) once I get further along in the fic I'm currently working on: "I am Sure I Imagined You."_

_Thanks for your reading and for all of the support!_

******How did I do? Do you want me to stop writing yet? Was it terrible? Mediocre? Are you drowning in creys because of my perfection (probably not but a girl can dream)? Let me know, reviews below.**


	10. Best You've Ever Had

**Hi! This one-shot was requested anonymously on tumblr and I can't even say too much about it because there is a lot going on here. So, I'm just going to shut up and let y'all read.**

_Main song used: John Legend, "Tonight"_

_Other songs used: Trey Songz, "Panty Droppa"; Ginuwine, "So Anxious"_

_**This one-shot features: Strip clubs, stage lights, mirages, aint!shit Sam, aint!shit Quinn, bartender Mercedes, voyeurs, and fabrevones.**  
_

* * *

_Ain't this what you came for _

Mercedes would always be known as _sweet thing_. The moniker never failed to put a smile on the dark haired woman's face and Quinn would bask greedily in every gleaming look, swearing that some of the brightest smiles were reserved just for her.

Quinn had been enamored with the short, sepia-skinned woman ever since she found her in a seedy downtown bar in a less than modest uniform, shuffling drinks to handsy patrons. Mercedes eyed Quinn warily when she offered up a thick, white business card but took it nonetheless, listening intently to the offer of a better working atmosphere and much higher wages.

How could she refuse?

She didn't, and within a week, she sauntered into Quinn's second-floor office, visibly nervous but with her head held high. Right away, she made sure to tell Quinn that she had no interest in stripping, that she'd be much better somewhere behind the scenes serving drinks or tending bar. Though Quinn desired nothing more than to watch Mercedes shake every one of her ample curves, she quickly realized that if she put Mercedes behind the bar she wouldn't have to share her as much. When Quinn found a new treasure she liked to keep it to herself for as long as possible, to keep the loosely moraled crowd at her strip club from tainting the sweet thing.

It wasn't hard to remember Mercedes' first night behind the bar. Though she managed to mix up several drink orders, break three bottles of their top-shelf liquor, spill a handful of drinks, and get caught watching the dancers several times, Quinn couldn't resist her long fluttering eyelashes over chestnut colored eyes or the poked out bottom lip that was perfect for nibbling. So, aside from a few bucks taken out of her first check for the broken bottles, Quinn didn't have the heart to reprimand the quick-witted young woman. All Mercedes had to do was flip her long, dark brown hair and offer a sweet apology and Quinn puddled before her, helpless against her alluring nature.

_Don't you wish you came, oh_

Quinn nestled herself into a spot against the bar, watching Mercedes serve drinks with a smile - and her normal side of snark - to the customers who took no shame in taking their eyes off the stage to leer at the shapely woman, something Quinn did quite often. Honestly, Quinn was proud of the fact that she could give anyone a run for their money in the 'starting at Mercedes' department. It was no secret that Quinn favored Mercedes and tonight, like any other night, she took the time to rake her eyes slowly over her body as she moved expertly behind the bar, a year's worth of practice under her belt.

_Girl what you playing for?_

"How's it going _sweet thing_?" Quinn asked in the loudest purr she could muster.

Mercedes nodded to acknowledge Quinn, stuffing another tip into her already overflowing jar,

"It's going good. Can I get you anything?"

Quinn eyed the low-cut halter-top she wore, her breasts nearly bursting out of deep V in the center, "Not unless you're going to put on that little police officer's outfit I've been begging you to slip into and get up on that stage."

Mercedes shook her head, stifling a laugh, "I'm fine behind here. I'll get your rum and coke, Q."

"Thanks, baby girl."

Mercedes finished up a row of shots for a bachelorette party and Quinn's drink as well. She handed off a glass to her boss and managed not to blush at the wink and lick of her lips Quinn offered as payment.

Quinn turned to the stage, watching as Brittany collected the last of her tips and skipped backstage. The fit blond did well one again. Her dances set to Britney Spears songs with costumes to match each number paired with her enviable dance skills kept the money flowing her way, but she still managed to be only second place to one person. Turning back to Mercedes, Quinn suggested, "Why don't you take a break? It's almost time for _you know who_."

Mercedes pulled in her lips, looking away shyly, "Why should I care?"

_Come on_

Quinn reached over the bar, placing a hand atop Mercedes', "Honey, remember who you're talking to. I know everything that happens in this damn building. As great as you've been doing, you're a complete fuck up as soon as "Panty Droppa" starts playing. Go take five. Everyone flocks to the stage as soon as _he_ comes out anyway so I think Mike's got it. Right, Mike?"

She received a thumbs up from the other bartender, "All good over here."

With a firm pat on the backside from Mike and a dismissal from Quinn, Mercedes removed herself from the bar in an adorable huff to find a place in the back to watch _him_.

* * *

_**This right here's a panty droppa**_

Sam did one last stretch backstage, smoothing out the sleeves of his suit once he finished. His song was playing, coming right on after a sultry introduction from the club's fiery DJ, Santana, and it was time once again for him to do what paid his bills. He'd gone through many different costumes in the years he'd been stripping at Ponies but the freaky businessman with the detachable suit seemed to be the only one that really had the cash flying toward the stage often mixed in with several pairs of panties and phone numbers written hastily on napkins.

_**Can I sing my song?**_

That was his cue. He straightened his clip-on tie one last time, it was purple tonight, _her_favorite color and he'd convinced Quinn to have her take a break just before his set started she could watch him tonight. He wanted to confirm his suspicions that she'd been just as affected by him as he was by her and the only way to do it was to get her from behind that damn bar where she could distract herself with customers who didn't deserve even an eighth of her attention. Sam made a little deal with his boss in exchange for the favor and hoped that it would pay off in the end.

Walking onto the stage, he noticed the normal crowd of frantic women, and men, all waiting for him to make an appearance. The dollars were already flying in his direction and all he'd done was make his way down the catwalk and toward the gilded pole. Sam loved the attention, the lights, the blaring music, the shrill screams and catcalls, basked in all of it even, but he grew extra confident from the pair of doeish brown eyes he spotted near the back of the club. Quinn sat nestled close to her, wrapped around her, one hand on her thigh and the other brushing gently through her hair. Mercedes giggled at something Quinn whispered in her ear and Sam couldn't help the pang of jealously that ran through him.

_Come on, let me kiss that_

His shirt and pants were already off by the time he walked toward the edge of the stage to finish out his routine. He'd already done a series of impressive spins around the pole including one where he flipped himself upside down and slid gracefully to the ground. In addition, he'd also managed to grind his crotch in the faces of a couple of lucky customers who were thrilled by the extra attention and probably stuffed more money than they intended to into the tight purple shorts he wore. Normally at this point, he'd select a high-tipping woman from the audience and give her a special dance, but tonight he had a slight change in plans.

Walking down the steps, Sam moved slowly through the crowd, stopping only to collect a few more tips here and there and give a thankful body roll until he reached the booth where Quinn and Mercedes sat. He pulled a chair from a nearby table, placing it in the middle of the floor and beckoned Mercedes to have a seat. She shook her head, moving closer into Quinn's embrace. Quinn whispered something else into her ear before gently pushing Mercedes from the booth to take the hand Sam held out for her. He placed a kiss on the back of her small hand as he led her to her chair.

She smiled, but he could still see the apprehension in her eyes, "What are you doing, Sam?"

"Just thought I'd do a little something special for you since you finally came out to join the fun."

"I-I was just going to watch."

Pushing her gently down into the chair waiting behind her, he leaned over and rasped into her hear, "Not tonight." A smirk found its way to his lips as he watched her shiver from the gentle kiss he placed on her jaw.

Yeah, she felt it.

_**Nine o' clock, all alone, paging you**_

Sam moved seamlessly into his next song, taking Mercedes' hands and running them along his toned torso as he danced for her. She tried to remain stiff, crossing her legs and looking away from his intense green-eyed stare every so often, but he wasn't having any of that. He was going to make this girl moan, in front of an audience, and after that she wouldn't be able to deny her attraction for him.

_I know you miss that_

Sam knew he could give her what she needed. He craved the same thing ever since the moment he first saw her and each time after as he watched her during his routine. He'd try all night to get her attention and if he wasn't on stage, he'd find some excuse to get to the bar, some excuse to reach over and touch her, to feel her delicate skin and flirt with her shamelessly. He'd always be on fire after that point in his night, having to excuse himself early to rub one out in the back, her name dripping from his lips as he stroked himself into a hasty release.

_Tonight's the night I let you know_

Tonight, his hand wouldn't be enough, he wanted _her_ warm hands, _her_ plump lips, and the pussy that he knew for a fact was soaking wet, judging by the dark spot left on the front of his shorts as he grinded his hardness against her center.

Bless her sweet heart for trying to resist, for trying to keep her hands wrapped around the sides of her chair and steady the breaths shakily leaving her body. If he hadn't wanted her damn bad he would have felt sorry for her, he would have eased up a little, but he needed her right where she was, teetering over the edge and begging him to give her the extra push she needed.

He leaned closer, his bare chest pressed against hers, "You want me don't you, _sweet thing_?" She bit her bottom lip, obviously fighting against an instinctual nod. He wasn't deterred, taking it as a challenge; he kissed his way from her neck to her breasts, thanking God for the top she wore that budged with just a few nudges from his nose revealing a black lace bra. He gently wrapped his lips around an already puckered tip and sucked softly while he continued the gyrations of his hips.

"Let me give you what you need," he whispered as he kissed his way to her other breast, "I don't wanna brag, but I promise it will be the best you've ever had, better than that little ex-boyfriend of yours."

That was it.

_Tonight's the night we lose control_

Apparently, mentioning the pale-skinned giant of a man Mercedes was seen with for the first few months of her employment was enough to set her off, to remind her of what she'd been missing in her life. To make her realize that Sam was the one who could give it to her. She moaned deeply into his ear, unable to stop the loud, rugged sound and it took every ounce of strength Sam could muster to not rip off the black leggings she wore and fuck her right in the center of the floor, for all to see. He glanced over at Quinn, who wore an approving smile. He was already going further than he was supposed to but he knew the action probably wouldn't get him fired, per the deal he'd made with Quinn, but now wasn't the time. He'd have plenty of time to take her, to have her, make her his own, when the last of the patrons and employees shuffled from the club and the night was at its close.

She was panting now and Sam took the time to kiss her lips as he brought her down from her high, slowing his movements, until her body stopped its quake. When his song finished, he grabbed her hand, leading her backstage to help her clean up, forgetting about the tips he'd left behind on the stage or the sad-faced customers still waving money in his direction. He was always the last dancer of the night, the closer who never failed bring out the last of the cash and leave each and every person in attendance satisfied as they trudged their way back to normalcy.

The lights came up just as they walked through the back door. Mercedes darted toward the bathroom not saying anything and leaving Sam to stare at her quickly retreating backside. While he waited, he chatted with a few of other dancers as they prepared themselves to go home, the locker room was almost cleared out, save for a few stragglers, by the time Mercedes came back out of the restroom.

* * *

_I don't wanna brag_

Mercedes hadn't brought any extra clothes to change into tonight. She cursed herself for not thinking ahead but rolled her eyes at the self-reprimand when she realized there was no way in hell she could have prepared for what happened. It would have been much easier for her to tell Sam that she wanted him, to tell him that her calling out his name in bed was the reason she and her boyfriend, Finn, had parted ways but the words never found their way out of her mouth. Every night she had to watch him on that stage, soaking every pair of panties in the room and even tenting more than a few pairs of pants and she had no desire to add to the tall, blond man's already inflated ego.

The cat was out of the bag now. Sam brought her to orgasm in the time it took for Ginuwine to sing a single song, it usually took Finn a whole album, and there were witnesses to the event. She knew Sam wanted her but the endless panty parade flinging in his direction deterred her from giving into his advances so easily. For a whole year, she'd go home every night, pussy throbbing, needing to be touched and some nights she wouldn't even make it out of the parking lot before she'd stuff a hand down her pants and take care of herself behind the driver's seat.

_But I'll be, the best you ever had_

She couldn't look at Sam who leaned against the bank of lockers as she opened hers and bent immediately to rummage through her bag for at least an extra pair of underwear. She didn't notice the costume hanging up until she stood back up. There was a little blue uniform waiting for her with a bright pink sticky note attached.

**Sweet thing,**

**Just try it on, see how it feels. You could wear it behind the bar if you like the fit. :)**

**3 Q**

"Do you like it?" Sam asked, leaning close enough for Mercedes to smell the cologne she had become all too well acquainted with.

She lifted the uniform from her locker, bringing her fingers to pull at the stretchy fabric adorned with a sewed on yellow badge, "I don't know. There isn't really much here to like or dislike. Shouldn't there be pants or something to go with it?"

Sam laughed as he watched her lifting the skirt of the short dress, "Even if you wore that you'd probably have on the most clothing in the entire club."

Finally, she chanced a glance at him, unsurprised by the smug half-smirk he wore, "Yeah, I've worn less than this though, just not in public."

Moving in, he pressed himself against her and she could feel the hard-on that apparently hadn't subsided since their little dance, "Maybe it's time you change that. You could put it on now, test it out."

She pushed against his broad chest firmly, not moving him at all, "You're not slick, Sam."

"I'm not trying to be slick. I think I've made it very clear that I want you."

Rolling her eyes, she turned to face him, "I don't know who's worse about trying to get me out of my clothes, you or Quinn."

_I hit you with the best stroke,_

He hooked a finger under her chin and leaned in to speak against her lips, "Can you blame us? We both have excellent taste."

"Boy, stop," she breathed. If her panties weren't already obliterated, she was sure they would have come flying off her body to rest at Sam's feet.

"I can't. You know the only thing I can think about every night?" He darted his tongue out to lap at her trembling lips.

"What's that?"

_Freestyle and the breaststroke_

"You." He pushed himself against her, pressing her back firmly to the lockers, "Behind that fucking bar, watching those assholes ogle you all night. Making you promises none of them can keep."

She tried to keep her voice calm, steady, "What business is that of yours?"

"Maybe _I_ have a few promises for you."

"I'd love to hear them, Evans."

"First off, you can cut the Evans shit. It's Sam and you should probably remember that because I promise you it's the only thing you'll be saying for the next couple of hours. Second, I promise that you won't be coming in to work tomorrow night and neither will I. Third, I promise you that there will not be a shred of that little outfit left once I rip you out of it."

She was floored by his bold statements, practically speechless, "Anything else?" she managed to choke out.

"One last thing, Mercy," his voice dropped and he spoke in a slow, measured tone, "I promise you that one of us will need a new bed by the end of the week."

"You talk big, Evans - fuck -" he applied a heavy-handed smack to her thigh, "I mean, _Sam_. But let's see you back it up."

He brought her hand between them, allowing it to rest on the front of his shorts, "You know better than anyone else that I've got reason to talk big. Put your costume on, I'll be out front."

He walked away, not waiting for an answer and after a few moments of deep breathing, Mercedes began to peel herself out of her clothes and wiggle her way into the fitted costume that came complete with a few accessories. If Sam wanted to make her promises, the least she could do is give him an opportunity to keep them.

* * *

After Quinn ushered out the last of her employees and locked the front and back doors, she returned to the main room, settling herself in the back, waiting anxiously for either Sam or Mercedes to make an appearance. She was a little sad when Sam came out first, running down the stage and peering into the darkened room until she waved a hand and called out his name to help him in her direction.

She crossed her arms over her chest, taking in the delighted look on his face, "How'd it go?"

Sam clapped his hands together and rubbed them briskly, "She's putting it on right now."

Quinn quirked an eyebrow, fighting a premature smile, "The shoes too?"

"The whole thing. You sure you want to watch this?"

"Nervous?"

He brushed off her accusation with a shake of his head, "Not a bit. I just don't know if you want to watch me fuck the shit out of your sweet girl."

"You wouldn't be doing it without my help. You walk around here like a lovesick puppy, just waiting for her to notice you and pout when she doesn't melt for you like the other horny housewives in this place do."

"I like that she doesn't make it easy for me. It took me a whole year to get her to really warm up to me," he got a faraway look in his eye that Quinn had never seen out her close friend before. "She's _different_."

"I know. That's why she's working here. But trust me, if you hurt her-"

Slipping back into his normal smug self, Sam commented, "I can't promise that I won't. I have every intention of putting it _on_ her tonight."

Quinn was quick with a raised hand to quiet his bragging. "Shut up. Like I was saying, if you hurt her, I will cut. it. off." She punctuated her words with firm pokes to his midsection, "Got it?"

"Got it, Miss Quinn," he mocked.

"Good." She relaxed against her seat, watching Sam begin a nervous pacing.

_So what we gon' do now?_

"The security cameras are off right?" he asked, looking around for the tell-tale blinking red lights.

"Don't be so selfish, Sam. I'm sure people would pay good money to see this," she teased, happy to see him finally worry about something.

"Seriously, Quinn. I don't know when I'll tell her about our little arrangement so the last thing I need is a sex tape out of all of this."

"You're safe, dear. It's bad enough I have to share her with you, there's no way I'm letting anyone else have a piece, even if they are willing to pay for it."

"This is your last chance to leave before we get down."

"Stop trying to push me away. Since I can't fuck her, the least you can do is let me watch. You owe me, remember?"

"I know, I'm just not used to fucking in front of an audience."

"Judging by what you did to her tonight I think you'll be fine. Also, if that costume fits her the way I think it will you won't even remember I'm here."

He let out a deep breath and mumbled a slow, appreciative, "Shit."

"Exactly. Now run along before she comes back out. I'll try to keep quiet and we can be even after this."

* * *

Sam pulled up a chair and sat down just in time to watch Mercedes poking her head out from behind the curtain. He could just make out the navy blue cop cap she wore and her hair flowing beneath it.

"Sam?" she asked, squinting form the bright stage lights.

"Right here, _sweet thing_."

"Is everyone gone?"

"No worries, baby. Now come on out, let me see you."

His breath became ragged as she walked out; carefully trotting one foot in front of the other in the high black heels she wore. The skirt of the dress, hugged her thighs closely, sliding up with every step she took. He could swear he saw a glimpse of her panties as she walked but was soon tore away from the sight as a thick silver zipper led his eyes up her torso and to the perky breasts pushed up high, proving too much for the dress to contain. She reached the edge the stage and stood before him.

"What now?" she asked, absentmindedly twirling her hair.

He rested against the back of his chair, "I danced for you. Now you have to dance or me."

He hadn't expected it, but she smiled, immediately beginning to move her hips to a rhythm he couldn't hear.

She stopped suddenly, "This feels awkward without music. You got music when you danced."

Thinking quickly he started to sing, "_Tonight I'm gonna, show you how much I appreciate you_," he began, recalling her to be a fan of Beyonce.

She giggled, her breasts jiggling in the process, "Seriously, that's the song you pick?"

"What? It's fitting." He bit his bottom lip, anxious to taste her body again.

"Fine, keep going."

"_Show you how much I'm dedicated to you_," he continued as she resumed her dancing. He knew she'd be good and wasn't surprised when his hand slid down his body to release his dick from his shorts and put on the condom he knew he'd need. He began to stroke himself in tune to the slow grinding of her hips, praying that he wouldn't forget any of the words to the song and she'd stop. She drug her hands lazily along her sides, bringing them up her smooth thighs to her breasts, swirling her fingertips over the nipples and moaning softly as she moved.

_Fuck it, round two now_

His throat was suddenly dry when she began to tug the zipper of her dress down, turning, and giving him a view of her heavenly backside as she let the garment slide to the ground. She made a show of bending over to pick it up, allowing him to see the trail of cum already running down her thighs, waiting to be lapped up, before flinging the dress in his direction. He wasn't going to stand idly by any more. No more teasing. Now was the time for fucking, for showing Miss Jones just how badly he wanted her. Bypassing the steps and taking a leap onto the stage, he was in front of her in a matter of seconds, his arms wrapping around her to massage her ass and use the healthy grip to pull her against him.

"I wasn't done," she murmured before his lips crashed to hers.

Taking a breath and sneaking a hand up the curve of her back until he found her bra strap he declared, "Yeah, you were."

* * *

Mercedes was setting records left and right tonight. First, she knew she'd take home more money than she usually did considering the fact that she'd made a bet with Puck, the olive-skinned, thick-armed, bouncer who bet that she couldn't get Quinn to make a pass at him. She succeeded twenty minutes into the night after she told Quinn how hot she thought Puck was, causing her possessive boss to try to lure the man away from Mercedes any time he came near her. Second, she set a personal record for the highest amount of voyeurs during a sexual experience thanks to Sam's thick cock rubbing perfectly against her clit and his thick lips sucking greedily on her nipples. Third, and at this current point it time, most importantly, she was already rounding out her third climax of the night as Sam's tongue hungrily probed her pussy, lapping up every drop of her release.

Admittedly, she wasn't totally proud of the second record but she couldn't bring herself to care as Sam kissed his way back up her body, stopping at her lips where he allowed her to have a quick taste of herself as he lined himself up with her center. She bit down on his bottom lip when a thrust of his hips sent the head of his cock into her warmth and he only winced briefly before he continued to push himself inside of her. They shared in the release of two tightly held breaths once he was seated completely within her before he pulled out and began stroking her slowly, rolling his body and hitting her clit with every push.

One she was comfortable, she allowed Sam to flip the two of them over. He lay on his back, digging into her hip with one large hand, and massaging her breasts with the other. She leaned backward to balance herself on his thigh while using a free hand to strum her button.

She had to be seeing things.

As she rode Sam, she'd been looking out into the darkness that lie beyond the stage, her eyes adjusting slowly to the room behind the bright lights; empty chairs and tables, the bar, and even some of the decorations came into focus. The heat from the lights and the thick haze surrounding her as she found herself coming upon yet another orgasm had to be playing tricks on her. There was no way in hell she had just gotten a glimpse of her boss, legs spread wide, head thrown back, one hand tightly squeezing a nipple, while the other thrust frantically into the valley between her thighs…

"Fuckshitfuckfuckfuck, Sam!" Mercedes yelled.

She clamped her eyes shut, trying as best she could to shove the image from her mind, when a powerful buck from Sam and the feel of his release filling the condom between them, sent her over the edge and straight into the blissful state she'd been chasing.

_Work it out, then we cool down_

She didn't say anything about the fact that she'd apparently thought of Quinn while she was fucking Sam or the fact that Sam was indeed the best fuck she'd ever had. He'd already proven himself to be right about her screaming his name and that was the only definite victory she was going to let him get, for now.

"So," he began as they exited the club, making sure the back door locked behind them. "I only live a couple of blocks from here. You can stay at my place tonight and I'll bring you back tomorrow night."

"Tomorrow _night_?"

He pulled her to him by her waist, kissing her deeply, "You thought I was going to let you out of the house tomorrow? Sorry, not gonna happen."

"Can we at least go to my place?" she suggested, licking her lips.

Smacking her ass he agreed, "Whatever you want, _sweet thing_."

She knew she wasn't seeing things when Sam grabbed her hand and walked her to his car. As he helped her into the front seat, she_ knew_ she saw the unmistakable flash of color and heard the loud engine of Quinn's red sports car zooming out of the front lot and down the block.

"You okay?" Sam asked as he settled behind the steering wheel.

Quickly, she shook off the strange feeling, "Fine, just a little sleepy I guess."

"I guess I can let you sleep a little before the next round. Trust me, you're going to need the energy."

"So much for not bragging. I don't know what I'm going to do with you, Evans."

"Whatever you want, _sweet thing_," he repeated, wrapping a free hand around hers as he pulled out of the parking lot.

Mercedes had spent an entire year waiting for Sam to say something along those lines and now that she'd finally heard the words, she couldn't wait to put a little action behind them.

_I don't wanna brag, but I'll be_

_The best you ever had_

* * *

**Is everyone okay after that? Did you literally die? Did you turn off your computer and simply say, "No, Molly, that was awful."? Are you preparing a marriage proposal for little old me?**

**Let me know, reviews below. **


	11. Wanky Wakey

**Hi! This one-shot was requested anonymously on tumblr by someone who wanted a little tired Mercedes and a horny Sam. The smut is kind of light here, but I've begun work on a smuttier version of the the prompt which you'll see at some point.**

**__****This one-shot features: dating Samcedes, whining, resisting Mercedes, and we know you weren't sleeping, Sam, just stop your lies. **

* * *

"Sam Evans, if you do not stop poking me with that I will _end_ you," Mercedes threatened, wrapping a hand around her boyfriend's wrist and shoving it away from her midsection. She hadn't been in the bedroom for more than a couple of minutes before Sam came in. He'd just gotten home from work and she tried to ignore the calls of her name echoing throughout the house. Sam was persistent, bounding up the stairs in search of her and finding her in the bedroom soon after. She expected him home later, hoping that she would have time to nap before their planned Twilight Zone marathon and home-cooked dinner.

"Merrrrcy," he whined, draping himself over her, "come ooooonnnnnn. You've been sleep for so long already." The whining was new and as grating as it was, Mercedes entertained the thought of giving Sam a quick fuck just so he could shut up. But where would that leave her in the long run? If Sam figured out that all he had to do was put on a pouty face and stretch out a few of his words in a child-like whine, he'd have every little thing he wanted. She scooted away from him, moving from the center of their queen-sized bed and toward the edge of it.

"I just came in here ten minutes ago," she protested, nudging him away as he tried to settle himself against her.

He huffed dramatically, sitting up and crossing his arms over his firm chest, "Isn't that enough of a nap for one day?"

Curling herself into a ball, her back facing him, she tried to ignore his histrionics, "Not when_someone_ kept me up all night posing for sketches."

She knew he was smiling, probably the one where he quirked up the left side of his mouth and raised his eyebrows expectantly. He knew she'd always break after that smile, so she refused to look at it, refused him, even as he continued to lay himself on top of her, "I couldn't help it, you looked really beautiful - stunni-"

She nudged him again, cutting him off, "Don't you dare. I am going to **nap**, Sam."

"What am I supposed to do?" he rumbled against the shell of her ear.

A heavy sigh left her body. In it, she found the strength to ignore the chills his warm, peppermint scented breath sent through her body, "You can nap with me; I don't really care as long as I get in a good thirty minutes."

He nuzzled against her, wrapping his arms around her waist and whispering, "I'd like to get in you for a good thirty minutes."

"What was that?" she questioned, opening her eyes just enough to see Sam's large hand sweeping the hair out of her face.

"I just said I'm going to nap with you, baby," he lied, in a suspiciously sweet voice, kissing her cheek lightly.

"I bet you did," she grumbled, closing her eyes again and relaxing against Sam who insisted on wrapping a leg around her thigh, effectively trapping her beneath his body. This was how they normally slept, him holding onto her for dear life, and her having to wake him up if she wanted to do so much as turn over, but the hold didn't feel completely comfortable as she tried to drift into a much-needed sleep.

Mercedes had to give Sam credit. The man proved himself somewhat patient and actually managed to wait a whole two minutes before he allowed his hands to sneak beneath her t-shirt and rise slowly to cup her breasts.

"Sam," she warned, wiggling in an attempt to stop him.

"…" He continued to breathe deeply into her ear, not moving a muscle except for the deft fingers that began to rub her nipples.

"Sam, I know you are not sleep and you will lose a hand today if you don't stop." She swore she heard him chuckle, but could pay the sound no mind as a hand snaked its way into her bra cup. "Sam!" she squealed, using all of her strength to sit up in bed and move Sam off her. Turning to face him in a huff, she had to steel herself against the devious smile he wore.

"Huh, what? What's wrong baby?" he mumbled in a faux sleep-laden tone.

"You know what's wrong," she insisted, poking him accusingly.

He drew his hand to his chest, trying his best to look offended, "Wha-me? I was just _sleeping_."

"With your hand in my bra?"

"Don't I normally sleep like that?" He shrugged, leaning back against the headboard. She had to admit he had a point; it wasn't unusual for Sam's hands to roam in the middle of the night. She'd gotten used to waking up with some part of her body fitted snugly into his palm and normally didn't mind, always feeling safe within his hold.

"You are hopeless." She wanted to smile and she was sure her face looked awkward as she fought against the natural response.

Sam caught on, instantly recognizing her fight against gracing him with the bright grin he loved so much. He almost had her and he knew it. He sat up, pulling her to him and kissing her lips lightly, "I was having a good ass dream too." He whispered in the deep voice that never failed to part her legs, "You wanna know what it was about?" He didn't let her respond verbally, he didn't need her to as her heavily lidded eyes questioned him enough, "You," he admitted, continuing, "You were so fucking beautiful, Mercy. You had on a gray t-shirt," he drug a finger lightly down the side of her neck bringing it to rest on the collar of the fitted t-shirt she wore, "it was just like the one you have on now." He placed a kiss on her exposed collarbone, softly nipping, then licking the area after. He stayed leaning against her, his face fitted into the curve of her neck, breathing slowly against her as he allowed a free hand to make its way up her thigh and around her generous hip to palm her backside. "You also had on these jeans, Mercy - got, damn, you in those jeans - your ass looked amazing. Actually, they were just like the ones you're wearing now," he took a firm hold of the ass he loved to admire. His grip combined with the kisses he applied to the underside of her chin caused the faintest moan to escape past her lips. She was almost there so he proceeded, "You know what the only difference was?"

"What?" she asked softly.

He figured he might as well go in for the kill breathing against her neck he stated breathily, "My cock was in your mouth."

Narrowing her eyes, she abruptly pulled away from him, moving to the edge of the bed and hopping off as quickly as she could.

"Hell to the no! I am not that damn easy, Sam!" she yelled, making a beeline for the open bedroom door. Sam was quicker than she was, leaping off the bed to wrap himself around her again and pull her back across the threshold. She fought him for a few seconds, giving up the moment he turned her around and pressed his lips to hers.

"Get over it, babe," he whispered against her lips. "You're easy for me and I'm easy for you. Accept it." He tugged her bottom lip, drawing out another faint moan.

"I still want my nap," she insisted, returning the deep kisses he offered.

"You'll get your nap, as soon as I get my Mercy." He grabbed her hands and tugged her back to the bed, sitting down and pulling her onto his lap.

Sam got his Mercy and then some. The Twilight Zone, dinner, napping, and anything that didn't involve Sam and Mercedes partaking selfishly of one another's bodies was quickly forgotten, pushed to the back of the heady minds that wanted nothing more than to put the other to sleep.

* * *

**That was at least of average quality, right? I'll just be here waiting to see how I did and accepting all soul mate applications and/or hate mail. How did I do? Let me know, reviews below. **


	12. Alone Together

**__****Hi y'all. I don't think I've taken the time to thank everyone for reviewing, favoriting, following, and just spreading the general love. You guys keep me going and I appreciate all of the encouragement!**

**This next one was requested on tumblr and is based around the song "Alone Together" by Daley ft. Marsha Ambrosius.**

**_This one-shot features: Truck driver Sam, waitress Mercedes, an empty diner on a back road, a nomad, and a young lady with adventure in her eyes. _**

* * *

**_He had to be in Philadelphia by the morning. _**

_I don't wanna be alone_

If the allure of a hot meal that wasn't served in a paper bag didn't bring Sam trudging into the doors of the almost empty Dee's Diner, then he wasn't quite sure what did. Maybe it was the bright sign that he never drove past on the back roads in the sleepy Ohio town. Always, he made it a point to stop here, to time out his trip so that he'd make it before closing. He'd never forget the one time he got caught in a terrible traffic jam in Indiana and the disappointment that ran through him when he finally pulled into the diner at midnight. His heart sank to find the neon sign dimmed, one of the only lights on the dark road, and the doors locked. It was a struggle to find his breath after that as he drug himself back to his truck, fighting the ache in his stomach, not hungry for food but just in desperate need of the nourishment only she could provide.

So many times, he passed through here before, stopped at this diner before, sat at a booth in the back, one that he inhabited three times a year, gorging himself on deliciously greasy hamburgers and sweet apple pie.

"With a dollop of ice cream?" she asked, tapping her pen against the small notepad she took orders with.

_A definite silence _

_You're almost exactly what I need_

Maybe it was the hypnotizing cocoa-skinned waitress that brought him back. The lingering smell of her subtle perfume mixed with the scent of fried food and the musk that came from working long shifts in her father's establishment. The smell would stick in his nostrils for weeks, not allowing him to forget the woman who never failed to greet him with a smile even after he'd left her presence and returned to his solitary life in the cab of his truck.

He only nodded at her suggestion, offering a shy, crooked smile and handing her back the plastic-covered menu, watching as she swayed away from the table to begin brewing the coffee he desperately needed. He sunk back into the worn blue leather seat of his booth, heart fluttering, thinking that maybe, just maybe, she remembered him. But why would she? She probably always asked customers if they wanted ice cream with their pie, but maybe she remembered the crestfallen look on his face the last time he was here and she informed him they were out of ice cream and his dreams of getting something cool and sweet on his tongue were dashed. Little did she know that his mouth had been watering, desperate for a taste of her plump, glossed lips and the heated dessert topped with the melting ice cream would be the only thing able to come slightly close to satisfying his craving.

Maybe he was hearing things but he swore he could make out the music her body seemed to move to, in perfect harmony with each of her actions. The quick rip of his order from her notepad, passed off to a cook who was out of Sam's view, the firm press of a blinking orange button to begin the coffee maker, all before she returned the task his presence interrupted. Her arm moved in slow, wide strokes as she cleaned the front counter, her arms extending fully to reach the opposite edge of it. He began to hum, a tune with no name that ended when she stilled her moments to begin a conversation with the cook. He couldn't hear what they were talking about but he was thankful for the exchange, for the way her big brown eyes lit up and a smile overcame her face as she swatted a playful hand into the air brushing off whatever the out of earshot words were. He pretended the smile and flirty gestures were for his benefit, that she was trying to get his attention and not the other way around.

After walking to the counter to pay for his meal, the only other customer left with a tip of his hat and a wink in her direction. He must have been the owner of the eighteen-wheeler Sam parked his own sizeable truck next to. She probably saw many of his type, of Sam's type, breezing in and out of town, flirting with her and going on their way again after their bellies were full. For a moment, he wished he could be that way, that he could find the courage to say something other than a serene 'hello' always followed by a genuinely interested 'how are you?'. He wished he could flirt with her, make her giggle the way the other customers often would, anything to keep her around for just a little longer before she returned to her job.

Sam laughed dryly at himself, realizing just how dumb his thoughts were. Why would she want to flirt with him? She could have any guy that swaggered into the place, chest puffed out, ready to give her anything her little heart desired. He was a nomad, a lost soul who drove through the night and slept at truck stops during the day. He couldn't give her anything, not stability, not wealth, not even a dependable companion. Why would she waste any more time with him than she had to?

She probably already had a fella to court her proper. One to bring her flowers just because, to hold doors open for her, to kiss her temple and run his hands along her back whispering how beautiful she was every time he got the opportunity to do so.

The hollow feeling in his chest made him stop what he was doing, sitting frozen, with a cheeseburger halfway between his plate and his mouth. He didn't know what was happening, why just the thought of her with anyone that wasn't him filled him with such dread. The feeling didn't subside when a large, dark-skinned man appeared from somewhere in the back, sidled up next to her and gave her a playful bump with his hip that produced the sweetest giggle.

"I'm heading out Lady Bug, do you think you can handle the place?"

She waved him off, "I've got it, daddy. You just get home to Momma, I know she misses you."

The man pinched the apple of her round cheek, "She misses you too, little woman, wish you'd come to dinner more often."

"I'll be there on Sunday, like always."

"Fine, fine, I won't bug ya. Just call me if anything goes wrong."

"I'll be okay."

He left her with a kiss on the cheek and a wary eye in Sam's direction. Sam gulped heavily, returning his eyes to his sandwich and struggling to take another ketchup-filled bite. He'd never seen her father before, the man's name floated around the building here and there but he'd never made an appearance while Sam was present. To everyone else he was Charles, or Mr. J, or Boss Man to any of the other waitresses Sam rarely saw but to her he was simply, always, daddy.

He couldn't bite his sandwich, he only stared at the red condiment dripping from it that he applied way too much of as he watched her clean a nearby table a few moments before. Looking out the window to distract himself, he hadn't noticed that she was walking toward him until he heard the clink of a glass plate against his table.

She stood there, hands clasped in front of her and a gentle smile on her face, "I know the ketchup bottles can be a little finicky. It looked like you got way more than you wanted so I got Finn to make you another burger. It's on me." The wink was his undoing and his burger dropped to his plate as he sat silenced, in awe of her. A thoughtful stare clouded her face as she waited for a response from him. Opening his mouth, he tried to say something, anything, but nothing came out. Her face became puzzled by his lack of reply and she excused herself, "Well, let me know if you need anything else. I'll just be over there."

_A definite maybe _

_Is sure to entice my curiosity_

"Mercedes," Sam looked around for a quick second, surprised that the sound came from his own mouth. He never dared to speak her name aloud before, only allowing it to rumble through his mind from the moment he read it on the shiny silver name tag she wore pinned to her bright blue uniform. Surprisingly, it rolled perfectly off of his tongue, sounding as natural as any word he'd been saying his whole life. She turned to face him, taking a cautious step in his direction. He quickly fumbled around the table, finding his knife still rolled neatly into a thick white napkin with his fork and spoon. He pulled the warm burger to him, pressing a hand over it and gliding the knife through it. Placing half on his plate and leaving the other behind, he pushed the half burger to the other side of the table and gestured toward it, "Join me?"

A polite smile graced her face, "I still have a few more things to do around here - we're closing soon." His face fell but he couldn't say he was surprised; the two hadn't exchanged many words beyond talks of the weather and what he wanted to eat. It was entirely too forward of him to ask her to sit down to a parcel of a meal with a stranger. He turned back to his plate, shaking off her decline of his offer only to look back up in time to see her sliding into the booth across from him. "I guess it wouldn't hurt if I had to stay a little longer tonight. I'm in no rush to get home."

_I can't help but think that this doesn't add up_

"I can help you with anything you need."

She shook her head, picking up her half of the sandwich, "No, I couldn't ask you to do that."

"I'd be glad to. You bought me a burger, it's the least I can do."

Biting her bottom lip, she leaned in and lowered her voice, "Don't tell anyone, but the burgers, and anything else, are free for me but I'm glad to share." She pulled back with another wink, taking a bite out of her burger.

He basked in the flirty gesture, drying his suddenly sweaty hands on a napkin, "So, what else do you have left to do here?"

"Uh, I have to refill the condiments and the salt and pepper shakers and all that stuff. I also have a few more tables to wipe down and some sweeping to do."

"That all? I can help with that, no problem."

"I really don't want to keep you."

"I wouldn't mind at all, I'm not really in any hurry to get back on that road."

"What are you hauling?"

"Light bulbs."

She perked up at his uninteresting admission, "Really?"

"Yeah, not too exciting, I know, but someone has to do it, I guess."

"I'm sure it's sort of exciting, you get to see all of these different cities, pass through all of these towns," she waited a beat, taking and swallowing another bite of her sandwich before she spoke again, "I bet your wife misses you like crazy though."

He choked, quickly reaching for his glass of water, "No wife, no girlfriend, just me."

"Oh." She took another small bite and Sam was sure he saw a smile dimpling her cheeks.

"What about you?"

She shrugged, "Same. No wife, no girlfriend."

"Just a great personality to keep you company, huh?"

"That and two smothering parents. I think it'd be nice to have a job like yours, to get away from here and explore a little."

"It's hardly glamorous. I don't get to really enjoy any place I go, I always have to be headed toward the next place."

_I'm trying to separate the facts from all the fiction_

"Where are you headed now?"

"Pennsylvania."

"You know where I've always wanted to go? The Hershey factory, take one of those little tours and then buy a ton of chocolate at the end of it. I think it'd be fun."

"Probably, I wouldn't know though, I don't get to do too much sight-seeing."

Conversation about the cities he'd been to, been through, turned into conversations about the cities she wanted to see and how she never made it to any of them. She had a spark of adventure within her but the desire to be near her parents kept her close to home. She'd started working for her father once she'd finished college but a music degree could only offer her a job a as a part-time teacher which she happily passed on in favor of working in the family-owned diner. She did more than take orders; she practically ran the place, knowing more about the business aspect of the restaurant than anything else. Sam wasn't surprised to find out that she had decided to go back to college and was currently enrolled in a Business Administration program that would help her in opening her own music store once she saved up enough money. But probably the best piece of information Sam obtained from Mercedes was the fact that she actually did remember him.

"Every February, every June, every October, that's when you come through here, right?"

She knew his schedule and even when to expect him. She admitted that part of the reason she took later shifts was so that she could see him whenever he came into town also, that she never knew what she'd say if they ever had an actual conversation, deeming herself too uninteresting for someone like him. Sam knew he was blushing, wildly so, but he couldn't help the warmth that spread through him as she produced a folded receipt from the pocket of the apron she wore.

The last time he was here, a small moment of boldness overtook him and he'd written her a little note on the credit card slip he signed. He didn't know if she saw it, or if she even cared about the silly message:

**I'll forgive you for the ice cream if I can have a smile next time I'm here. - Sam**

She said she'd felt bad about the ice cream, that she'd been carefully rationing their supply of the dessert all week wanting to save a little for him, knowing he had to show up soon. She seemed embarrassed at her confessions, hiding her face behind her long, dark hair but Sam was overjoyed to hear the things she shared.

He gladly soaked up each tidbit of information she offered, wishing that she'd go on forever but she wouldn't let the conversation be one-sided. She pulled out of him that he was originally from Kentucky but ended up living in Nebraska, of all places, that he played a little guitar, that he realized college wasn't for him after three semesters and decided to get a job to support himself as he tried to find a place to settle down. He took odd jobs here and there at first, traveling from state to state in search of some permanent attachment. To this day, he hadn't found anything worth sticking around for. Even the small farmhouse he rented in Nebraska was devoid of any real domestic touches and wasn't anything he was ever excited to get back to. He opted to spend as much time on the road as possible, allowing his bank account to build up and give him something to offer just in case he ever found someone to share his life with.

_We're living in a world of contradictions_

_And if baby you're the truth then I'm lying next to you_

Maybe it was the easy conversation that Sam and Mercedes shared while they began to clean up the diner that had him rethinking his crush on her. She was more than just a pretty face to stare at while he took way too much time eating a hamburger, she was a bright mind, a gentle soul, and boisterous laugh that never failed to bring a smile to his face. His heart jumped each time he made her giggle, sharing stories of the weird things he'd run into during his travels. He was glad to have her hanging on his every word, quickly deciding that he would stay with her until she closed up the diner.

The cook left with a similar warning as her father, urging Mercedes to call if anything went awry and casting a warning glance in Sam's direction. Sam could only nod to the tall man, trying his best to look like the harmless person he actually was.

Once the very last saltshaker was re-filled, the floors were swept and the lights were shut off in the small establishment, Sam walked Mercedes to the door, trying desperately to think of something that would keep her in his presence for just a little longer. He knew that one they crossed through the entryway that their time together would be over, that he wouldn't see her again for several months.

_You're the desert sand, I'll be your water _

_And you're the perfect plan I never thought of _

She raised her hand to the door, hesitating as she wrapped her hand around the bar, never pushing, just waiting for something. _Something_ came over Sam in the moment. Her hand hanging on the bar of the door was a signal for him. He placed a hand atop hers, using his other to push her chin up and bring her face to meet his in a tender kiss. He didn't know what to expect from the action, certainly not the heat that coursed through his body or the shy smile that curled her lips as she moved closer to repeat the gesture.

Sam turned Mercedes in his arms, pressing her against the door, holding it closed as he leaned in for another testing kiss, followed by a series of slowly deepening pecks. He braced himself on the bar of the door, enclosing her between his arms; his knuckles paling as he willed himself not to touch her. He wouldn't do anything she wasn't ready for. Though they were still practically strangers at this point, he'd do anything, everything she wanted in an instant but she had to tell him. He needed to hear that she wanted him, wanted to be with him.

She swiped her tongue along the seam of his lips and he parted them for her, allowing his own tongue to wrestle with hers, to better share in the taste of the mints they'd popped while chatting at the cash register. Cool breaths quickly turned heated as they feasted on one another, drinking in the delightful whimpers each offered

A small hand pushed its way up his front, tugging open the buttons on his flannel shirt while they kissed. He tried to regain his composure, to stop the dizzy feeling in his head when she pulled her lips away from his and began a slow trail from his chin to his neck, finishing at his clavicle, pushing open his partially undone shirt to smack her lips gently against his skin. He shuddered at the contact, it having been too long since he'd felt such tender affections.

"Mercedes," he mumbled, still not used to calling her name aloud.

She stopped her kisses, pulling back slightly to look up at him, "Yes, Sam?"

His head dipped, resting on her shoulder in a pile of her soft hair, "I think we should stop," he whispered regretfully into her curls.

Her lidded eyes widened and she pulled herself further back, "I'm sorry, Sam. I didn't mean to-"

"No," he said quickly, "you didn't do anything - it's me." He pushed up from the door, releasing a deep breath and carding a sexually frustrated hand through his hair. He wanted to, God did he want to. He ached for every inch of her, for whatever her soft hands and hot mouth would do to his body but the haze of sleep and Mercedes-related drunkenness kept the situation from feeling completely right. He sighed continuing, "It's just been a really long day and I'm exhausted and I just feel like I'm dreaming right now, like none of this is happening." She nodded slowly, confusion still etched across her face, "I fell like if we don't stop then were going to go farther than you want to. I don't want to do anything you're not ready for - anything _we're_ not ready for."

"Sam, you don't have to sleep with me if you don't want to. I don't need you to make up excuses. It was just - just the way you kissed me I thought, that you wanted me," her voice trailed off and she looked down at the floor, shaking her head.

Immediately, he brought his hands to cup her face and bring her gaze back to his, "I do! I'm not saying I don't want you Mercedes, I'm just saying that I feel like this isn't a decision we should make with both of us running on very little sleep."

Another nod and a moment of silence filled the air before she spoke again, "There's a motel across the road. I think you should get a room and stay the night."

Placing another sweet kiss to her lips, he leaned his forehead against hers, "I'm not ready to leave you."

"I can stay with you until you fall asleep," she offered, enfolding his hands with hers and proceeding to walk out of the diner once he agreed. They made a brief stop at his truck where he showed her around the little area that he spent most of his time. After helping her into the cab, he gave her a quick tour, letting her pull the horn and gleefully answering all of her interested questions. He grabbed the small overnight bag he had and slung it over his shoulder as they walked hand in hand across the road to the quiet motel. The bespectacled man behind the counter gave Mercedes a look when the two walked in. Sam found the man to be somewhat curt but brushed off the feeling of rudeness as they walked to his room and Mercedes explained that the man was a close friend of her father's.

_I don't wanna do this on my own_

_and you shouldn't have to be alone_

_I would rather be alone together_

**_He was supposed to be in Philadelphia by the morning._**

Inside the room, Sam was completely at ease, glad that the situation with Mercedes hadn't turned awkward. He didn't bother to change out of his clothes, opting to flop back onto the bed after she made herself comfortable on the edge of it and flipped on the television. Placing his hands behind his head, he stared at TV, enjoying the comfortable stillness between them.

He almost missed her comment when she spoke up, "It's weird, you know…"

"What is?"

She turned to him, moving further onto the bed, "You. Me. I just have this feeling about you."

"Is it good?"

"It's kind of scary as hell. But I like it," she shrugged, "I like you."

"I like you too," she closed half the distance between them when he leaned up to kiss her lips softly. "Lay with me?" he requested, pulling her onto the bed, "I'll keep my hands to myself." She giggled, settling herself against his chest stroking his full stomach. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, just the fact that you seem to think that I wouldn't want you to touch me."

He nuzzled her hair, getting used to her body pressed to his, "Darlin', all you have to do is say the word."

"I'll remember that."

Sam had no idea what was on the muted television, he could only pay attention to Mercedes' deep, measured breathing that was slowly lulling him to sleep. The time passed too quickly for his liking and half asleep, he was woken completely when he felt Mercedes stirring. He wrapped his arm tighter around her, cuddling closer to her as she tried to get up from the bed.

"Sam? I thought you were sleep."

"Stay, please."

He felt her nod and place her hand above his, pulling him closer around her. Resting his head on top of hers, it wasn't long until he drifted off to sleep.

_Well my heart's been racing, chasing after you_

_You're the sweetest dream my incredible you_

**_He didn't make it to Philadelphia by the morning._**

The sun shining through the holes in the cheap mini-blinds woke Sam before the alarm clock he set could. If he got up now he could still make it to Pennsylvania not too far behind his schedule and blame his lateness on traffic, but he couldn't bring himself to unwrap his arms from Mercedes' deeply breathing form. He kissed her forehead, watching it furrow then relax again, kissed her nose, watching it scrunch, kissed her lips, watching them quiver slightly. Smiling at the brown eyes that fluttered open, he whispered a soft "Good morning," before taking her lips again.

_You're the star so bright, you're eyes the lightest hue_

The pecks soon turned heated and he was in a similar position as the night before, hovering above her as he dug his hands into the sheets around them, keeping himself pushed up enough so as not to rest his full weight on her. Though he desperately wanted to, he still couldn't touch her, fearing that once he got hold of her he'd never want to let go. Her hands were less restrained, raking through his hair, down his chest and up his back, he wanted so badly to give in, to lay himself against her and allow her to have every part of him she wanted.

"Sam," she breathed, momentarily parting her lips from his.

"Yeah?"

"_Touch me._"

_So soft your lips, the wind blows in my hair,_

_Come closer let me whisper in your ear_

Wrapping a hand around the back of his neck and pulling him down against her, she took the lead. He released his hold on the sheets, bringing his hands to comb carefully through her hair. One of her hands found his and slid it down her body, bringing it to her thigh and letting it slide up the skirt of her uniform. Sam let out a shaky breath and she pushed her hips up to his, grinding against him once, then a second time, urging his hand to move further up. After a fourth thrust of her hips, he finally allowed his hand the exploration it itched for, bringing his calloused palm up her thigh until it encountered the hem of the cotton panties she wore.

_You're the desert sand, I'll be your water _

Already, he could feel himself hardening and he had barely touched her. She urged him on, shifting so his fingers touched her panty-clad center, opening her legs wider for him, playing with the hair at the nape of her neck as he began to play with her. He slid his fingers against her experimentally and watched her reaction, her breaths becoming heavier as he applied more pressure and moved up toward her bliss button. A feeling akin to pride rushed over him, hearing the way she moaned when he drug his fingers up and then down again over the little nub several times. Her lower half pushed toward him, begging for the fingers he slipped one by one into her slick folds, urging her uniform further up with the help of his hands until it rested above her breasts.

_And you're the perfect plan I never thought of _

He didn't remove his hand from her as she sat up and he pulled the dress over her head and banished it to the floor, doing the same with her bra once she unclasped it and allowed him to slide it off her. As soon as she settled back against the fluffy white pillows again, he continued his work, pushing in and out of her while he leaned to taste her upper half, starting with her lips and making his way down to apply tender, hungry kisses to her breasts, laving her nipples deliberately until they budded in his mouth, ready for the moan-inducing nips he placed to each of them.

She shivered beneath him, her hips continuing to ride his hand, "Sssam, I-I'm gonna-" she whimpered.

He spoke against her skin, kissing her soft belly, "Ssssh, go ahead. Come for me."

It was a beautiful sight, her eyes to the ceiling, her forehead glistening, and her mouth parted more than enough to allow the heavy moans she offered to escape. Sam wanted to kiss her to eat up every sound coming from her but his fingers were soon stuffed into his own mouth as he partook of her essence. She opened her eyes slowly to watch him enjoying her taste, sitting up and pulling his face to hers so she could enjoy it as well. She flipped the two of them over, their mouths still pressed together, and her warm body teasing him.

_I don't wanna do this on my own_

_and you shouldn't have to be alone_

Her speed was going to be his undoing. Slowly, _painfully slowly_, she moved down his body, kissing every area of skin she revealed as she unbuttoned his shirt. She tugged him up gently by the parted lapels, bringing him back to her soft body, allowing him to nuzzle against her breasts while she slid the shirt off and flung it to the floor. Pushing him back down, she resumed her kissing, stopping when she reached his belly button. A swift swipe of her tongue bucked his hips and he stared down at her to see her smiling devilishly against his stomach. She let her tongue glide through his happy trail of light blond hairs, her hand having unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans by the time she reached his underwear. Leaning up, she tugged at his pants and he pushed his hips up to help her. His jeans hit the floor just as she glided a hand up his thigh and beneath his boxers, lightly touching his manhood before wrapping her fingers around it and begging to stroke his shaft slowly, watching him the whole time.

He hissed, as she nipped the head of him through his shorts. He stopped her as she prepared to take the head of his cock into her mouth, "You don't have to do that."

She ran a gentle hand over his abdomen, calming him, "Ssssh."

Nodding, he leaned back against the pillow and allowed her to have her way with him. She brought down the band of his boxers, pulling them over his member, placing a kiss to it as she pushed his undergarments down his body. Pushing her hair over her shoulder, allowing him a better view of her, she took him back into her warm palm, stroking him while she brought her mouth down to swirl her tongue around the tip of him.

He would have been embarrassed by his loud groans if she hadn't been moaning just as loudly. She parted her knees wider and he noticed a moving between her thighs realizing that she was pleasuring the both of them to the same, slow rhythm, paying his body close attention, noticing the way his legs started to shake as his release crept through him. Stopping her own playing, she urged him to come, taking his cock as far as it would go into her mouth until he did, hard and strong, as he enjoyed watching the spurts of his release leaking out of the sides of her full mouth.

He was still hard when she crawled back up to him, kissing him, opening her mouth and presenting them the opportunity to mix each of their tart tastes.

_I would rather be alone together_

A delighted, "Mmmmmm," rumbled from her throat and he echoed the sound, more than ready to appease the want her gyrating hips communicated. He felt his cock slide against her wetness and grabbed her hips to still her movements.

"I don't have anything," he admitted bashfully.

She pecked his lips with a smile, "It's okay, I have some in my bag." She hopped off the bed and bounded across the room to where her purse sat next to the TV. Sam took the time to appreciate her short, curvy form as she dug through her bag, producing two gold packages from it as she came back to him. "My mom slipped them in there; she insists that I carry them."

"Smart woman."

She handed off the packets to him, lying down beside him and watching as he rolled the condom on and tossed the wrapper. She pulled him back to her as soon as she finished, parting her legs wide enough for him to settle between them. Holding his cock, he ran the tip of it along her slit, his body trembling and his eyes searching hers for any signs of hesitance. Carefully, he pushed into her, applying tender kisses to her face to relax her. She dug her nails into his arms, cursing loudly when he was all the way in, and then letting out a slow moan when he began to move inside of her. Every thrust felt better than the one before and soon Mercedes began to meet his strokes, helping him set a steady pace that satisfied the both of them. He couldn't get enough of her body, mouth couldn't stop kissing her, hands couldn't stop touching her, cock couldn't stop pushing into her until he felt the rapid fluttering of her walls, squeezing him until he came shortly after she did.

_I'll always keep you safe in my arms_

Watching her lie there, chest rising and falling slowly, eyes staring at something beyond the small room they inhabited he knew he'd never seen anything more beautiful. The weight of their actions still sat with him and he hugged it closer, hugged her closer, hoping for the heavy, satisfied feeling in him to never leave his body. They lie in one another's arms for minutes he lost track of, moving once the alarm clock signaled that it was time for him to leave again. They dressed slowly, helping one another into, then back out of their clothes as they decided to partake of each other again.

After two quick showers, and getting into their clothes for the second time, Sam noticed a tear running down Mercedes' cheek. He swiped it away, pulling her to him as they stood in the middle of the room.

"What's wrong, beautiful?" he asked, kissing her temple.

"It's stupid," she said, her voice muffled against his chest.

"Tell me."

"I know this was just a one night stand. I know you have to leave and I can't keep you here any longer. I still - I'm just not ready for this to be over."

"Who says it has to be?"

"You're leaving. You have highway to plow through and light bulbs to deliver." She pushed out of his hold, grabbing her purse and walking toward the door. "I'll just see you in October I guess, if you decide to come back."

_I will guarantee that I will never break your heart _

He crossed the room in a flash, grabbing her hand and pressing it against his chest, over his heart, "Do you feel that, how fast it beats? As soon as I walk through the doors of that diner it starts and it doesn't stop, Mercedes, it doesn't stop until I'm three hundred miles away from you. You don't even know what you do to me and you stand there doubting me and it just hurts that you can't see it." She folded her fingers, leaving them against his chest. He lowered his voice, forcing her to listen closely, "Why wouldn't I come back? What reason do I have to not want to see you as often as I can?"

"I'm sorry, Sam. I just don't feel like this could possibly end well for us."

"I'm not going to stand here and make you a bunch of promises because I can't do that you. But I want to be with you Mercedes and not just a couple of times of year, but every single day that I can."

"How do you even know that?"

"I just do. Don't you want to be with me?"

She nodded somberly, "but your job-"

"It's _just a job_, nothing more. It keeps me out of the poorhouse but it doesn't make me happy. You make me happy and it took finding you to make me realize that that's what's important. I have a truck full of light bulbs but if you say the word, Mercedes, fuck those light bulbs and whoever is waiting for me. Just tell me to stay and I will."

**_I_**_'ll always put you first cause you deserve the world_

She pulled her hand away, bringing it to her lips and kissing it before pressing it back to his. "I'll see you in the fall, Sam." She was through the door before he could stop her, before he could fully realize that she was walking away from him. He stared at the door for the longest time, hoping she'd change her mind and sniffling away the tears threatening his eyes.

**_He finally made it Philadelphia._**

Sam couldn't wait until October to come back. The month seemed entirely too far from June so he did everything in his power to pass through Lima as often as he could, everything he could to show Mercedes that his feelings weren't going to subside. He switched jobs with other drivers, rerouted his trips, stayed up driving all night just to see her. After their third night together, she finally felt confident enough to give him her phone number and they called each other constantly after that, building their relationship though they remained miles away.

_You're the desert sand, I'll be your water _

_And you're the perfect plan I never thought of _

October came quickly for Sam; passing through Lima on what he didn't tell Mercedes was one of his last deliveries, he treated the trip just like any other. He was back in November too, much to Mercedes' surprise, looking for a job before finding one at a local shipping plant. Finally, he was back in December, behind the wheel of a truck and pulling off the road and up to Dee's Diner with a smile on his face. Mercedes was at her usual spot at the counter, leaning over it to read through a catalog, looking up to greet him with a blinding smile when she heard the bells of the door chime his arrival. Before she could come to him, he hopped the counter and wrapped his arms around her.

"Mercy," he said breathlessly, taken by the sight of her, wasting not a second before meeting her mouth with kiss.

She pinched his cheeks, and then glanced out to the small U-Haul truck he pulled up in, "All your stuff fit in that?"

"I don't really have too much. Besides since you're picking out new furniture, I sold everything else."

"Speaking of which," she said, tapping the catalog on the counter, "I think we should go for the mahogany bed frame, I don't think we'll be able to break that one." He hid his face in her neck, laughing as he remembered the broken headboard in the motel, the pissed off owner, and Mercedes' even more pissed off father when his _friend _relayed the story to her parents over Sunday dinner.

"We can try," he rumbled against her skin, hands moving down her body to rest on her behind.

"So what can I get for you, Sam?" She deepened her voice and darted her tongue out to lick his lips, "I'm sure you're starving."

Before Sam could answer, a stern-faced Mr. Jones cleared his throat from behind the two. Sam quickly jumped, released his hold on Mercedes and backing away until he was on the other side of the counter again.

"Just for the record," Mr. Jones began with a wag of his finger, "my daughter isn't on the menu when I'm around, son. Eyes up here. You'll get a damn burger and fries and you'll like it and no it doesn't come with a _chocolate shake_."

"Can I at least get some ice cream," Sam mumbled, as she watched Mercedes snickering silently behind her father.

"_We're all out_," he growled.

"Don't worry, I've got ice cream at _home_ for you," Mercedes added. Mr. Jones didn't notice the way his daughter leaned over the counter, allowing Sam a view down the open buttons on her blouse. However, he sure heard the groan coming from Sam as he quirked a furious eyebrow in his direction.

Mr. Jones brushed past the young man and stomped toward the other end of the diner, grumbling as he walked away, "I don't know who he thinks he is, moving in with my daughter, wanting to eat up all my damn ice cream. Your burgers are not free, Evans!" He yelled with a shake of his fist before disappearing behind a door marked **Employees Only**.

_I don't wanna do this on my own_

_and you shouldn't have to be alone_

**_Sam was back in Philadelphia. _**

After their trip to Hershey, Mercedes wanted to see the historic city and soak up some of its renowned culture before they went back home and Sam, full of chocolate, happily drove all night until they reached the city. Checking them into a hotel and carrying his heavily sleeping girlfriend up to their room for the night. Laying her on the bed, he carefully removed her sundress before coming out of his own clothes and getting into bed with her. As soon as he settled, he thought to set the alarm clock so they could get an early start in the morning. He tried to move from the bed but Mercedes, cuddled closer to him.

"Sam," she whispered.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Please, stay."

He was glad to. He wrapped around her, forgetting the alarm and figuring he had no need to be in a rush. If they started their day in Philadelphia later, they would just make it back to Lima a little later and though he couldn't wait to be back in his own bed, as he held Mercedes, he knew he was already home.

_I would rather be alone together_

* * *

__**So maybe I came on a little strong with you all before with the talk of having my babies and being soul mates and whatnot. Let's start over: I'm asking you on a date, one where I will probably read and or write you smutty samcedes fanfiction. Are we doing this? **

**Let me know, reviews below. **


	13. New Boy

**Another lengthy one coming your way. I have an inbox full of promts on tumblr so there will be plenty more of these coming right along. I think I've settled on an every other day schedule and I'll keep to it as long as you all keep the reviews coming. Deal?**

_**This one-shot features: Popular Mercedes, new student Sam, slushies, inferred and actual Puckcedes, jungle juice, and *NSync.**_

* * *

**Strike One: Hell to the no**

What was so special about this one?

Yeah, he was cute, but so were a lot of the other new boys at McKinley. He was just part of the latest wave of Jackson Prep guys that were making an exodus from their old school as people begun to catch wind of their headmaster's fondness for spying on his all-male academy students. Like the other brand new transfers, he still wore his crimson blazer with the school's emblem stitched on it, which he obviously hadn't figured out made him a bright, shining target for McKinley's unofficial slushie-carrying welcome wagon.

This one was blond, tall, with probably the most haunting pair of green eyes Mercedes had ever seen, and certainly the plumpest lips she'd ever spotted on a white boy. Mercedes could appreciate a fine piece of ass when she saw one and he was certainly it but he was still too fresh for her to get anywhere near him. He had to wait, just like anyone else who she thought fit to deign with a moment of her attention. This boy was not special, despite the fact that her panties had already moistened just a little thinking of the ways in which he'd put the big hands of his, currently wrapped around the back of another former Jackson boy's wheelchair, to work.

"I call dibs on the trout-lipped one over there!" Santana shouted, in a voice too loud for the conversation everyone and their damn mother didn't need to be privy to. Mercedes rolled her eyes, sighing at her best friend's crassness. Santana made no effort to hide whenever she was preying on someone. If Santana picked a boy, the whole school knew about it within hours and if anyone dared to go near what was hers they'd have hell to pay.

"He probably won't appreciate the nick name," Kurt mocked, lifting his sunglasses to rest in his coif of brown hair to get a better view of the new crew. Kurt on the other hand, and much like Mercedes, was classier about his attempts to add any further notches to his bedpost. He didn't claim boys openly; instead, he let those who were interested come to him, giving each the chance to impress him before he decided who would get a piece of McKinley's resident trend setter. Mercedes and Kurt both went by the three strikes you're out rule, forcing any boy that wanted to court them to keep himself in line lest he ruin his chances. Kurt sighed dreamily, "That mouth is the stuff that dreams are made of though," he admitted, placing his sunglasses back to their previous position.

"He'll be mine so I will call him what I please," Santana barked back, twisting her long, dark ponytail, "Not that he'll hear any of the nicknames, seeing as his ears will muffled by my thighs while he's busy sucking my clit clean off." Both Kurt and Mercedes found themselves cracking smiles at their friend's lack of tact. Different as they were, the three loved each other dearly, having struck up an unlikely friendship freshman year when each found themselves in a less than stimulating gym class together. Santana stuck up for Mercedes when their substitute didn't believe her excuse of severe cramps as a reason to not participate in class for the day despite the shorter woman's discolored face and doubled over stance. Kurt was quickly at her side, also not wanting to participate in the day's activity of kick ball and offered to escort Mercedes to the nurse. After she finished reaming out the teacher, Santana joined the two whom after getting a few pain pills and some saltines from the nurse, spent the rest of their period huddled in the girl's locker room bonding over each of their fondness for things such as music, dance, and fashion.

Now seniors, the group were more like siblings than anything else. A feared, well-respected, family made whole by the other members of their over-achieving clique. Mercedes dominated in the music field as leader of the show choir, shining member of the concert band, and a well-decorated pianist in her own right. Kurt made his mark in anything pertaining to fashion; any costume seen on the McKinley stage could be attributed to the young man who split his time between designing and acting for the drama department. Santana was co-captain of the cheer squad along with her former nemesis Quinn Fabray and she'd also made a mark on the debate team, being the unanimously chosen captain after leading the team to its first victory in twenty years. Their group was rounded out by Noah "Puck" Puckerman, resident badass and part-time athlete who remained an honor student thanks to intense _tutoring _sessions with Mercedes; Tina Cohen-Chang, the only other drama department student Kurt trusted in the creation of his costumes and the class president who fought long and hard for most of the class' whimsical demands; and Finn Hudson, quarterback and reigning prom King two years going.

Aside from their school involvement, each of the crew excelled in the classroom, never letting grades get in the way of participating in their extra-curricular activities. They each found it was much easier to get permission to go out on Friday nights if they claimed they were headed to a study session rather than the unsupervised parties they often attended. With great grades, their parents had no reason to distrust the more than sexually active teens.

A collective groan went through the huddles of students standing outside of McKinley's doors when the first bell rang. The students shuffled into the building in a somewhat orderly fashion, stopping by lockers and bathrooms on their way to their first periods. Santana, Mercedes, and Kurt stopped by their side-by-side lockers to check hair and makeup, and collect a few school supplies. Santana snapped her fingers and a member of her mostly underclassmen harem appeared to carry the books she shoved at the poor guy and escort her to class. She left her friends with a pageant wave and the demand of, "Sleepover. Cedes' house. I'll bring shit."

Mercedes and Kurt left each other's company with a kiss on each other's cheeks and headed down opposite ends of the hall. After a trip up the stairs, Mercedes reached her Lit class where she was surprised to find the blond boy from outside sitting in the normally vacant seat next to the one she always sat in. When she reached the table where he sat, he shot up from his seat, towering above her with a lopsided grin on his face.

"Hi, you must be Mercedes. That's probably creepy that I know that because I'm new here, but they told me I shouldn't sit in your seat and since you look like you're coming to sit here, you must be Mercedes. Please tell me you're Mercedes so I don't have to make that speech again."

She wanted to giggle, to laugh at his overly enthusiastic demeanor but that would mean a break in the normally placid character Mercedes had to play with all of the new kids. There was no way he was going to break her down so early, even if he was adorable.

"I'm Mercedes," she said curtly, pushing past him to get to her seat. He didn't seem to notice her coldness as he jumped in front of her to pull out her chair.

"Allow me," he said, gesturing toward the seat. "You know," he continued, "they told me who you were but they didn't tell me how pretty you are." She narrowed her eyes at him before sitting down and getting out the materials she needed for the period. His watching of her hadn't gone unnoticed as he sat tapping his fingers on the empty desk in front of him. Mercedes hoped that Noah wouldn't pick today to show up. She normally kept the seat next to her empty just in case the mohawk wearing, habitual-skipper decided to come to class.

Their teacher walked in soon after Mercedes settled and immediately started the day's lesson. He briefly welcomed the new students introducing the one next to her as Sam and another sitting near the back of the class as Blaine, before passing out a packet of papers and requesting that each student take close notes on the story they were going to read in preparation for a quiz. Sam tapped Mercedes' arm, that damn grin still on his face, and sheepishly asked if he could borrow a pencil and paper.

"You knew you were coming to a _school_ today, right?" she teased, ripping a few sheets of paper from her notebook and passing him a pencil from her bag.

"Yeah, but it's my first day. I expected to be in the office all day," he shrugged, still paying no attention to the teacher's beginning lecture. Mercedes kept her eyes trained on the papers in front of her, ignoring the holes Sam's eyes were burning in her body until he nonchalantly commented, "You smell really nice."

"Mr. Evans," their teacher snapped, "I know that you're new here but we don't talk in the middle of class. Since you've got so much to say why don't you stand and read aloud from the short story I've passed out."

His smile didn't falter as he stood from his seat to begin reading. He struggled through three paragraphs before admitting that he'd forgotten his glasses and was excused from his punishment by their somewhat-appeased teacher. Sam kept quiet throughout the rest of the period, making Mercedes feel slightly uneasy. She felt sorry for the guy who seemed to be in a much less happier mood by the time the bell rang and the class was dismissed. Something inside of her caused her to grab Sam's arm, slowing him after he'd walked out of the room, and begin a conversation. "You know," she started, walking alongside of him, "we have really good tutors here if reading isn't your thing. I used to be really bad in science but I got a tutor and it was really helpful." She'd never shared that information with anyone aside from Kurt and Santana. Seeing a tutor wasn't anything to be ashamed of but the fewer people who knew that the normally flawless Mercedes Jones needed help with anything, the better. But she'd felt sorry for Sam. If they were going to be in class together and she was going to have him staring at her and complementing her every day she at least wanted to see him smile while he did it.

He nodded, mulling over the advice, "That might help me a little but I have a learning disability. I'm dyslexic."

"You should have said something, I'm sure he wouldn't have made you read."

"Doesn't matter, it would have been embarrassing either way."

A gentle squeeze of his arm sent a slight spark through her body, "Well, if you ever need any help, you shouldn't be afraid to ask."

He smirked, raising a suggestive eyebrow, "Is that an invitation?"

She swatted him playfully, finally allowing herself a laugh at the sweet boy, "I didn't mean ask _me_, just ask somebody."

"Right," he said smugly, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Big booty Judy, my love," Santana yelled, coming down the stairs to meet Mercedes at their usual spot, "let's go. We have to get to Physics and I need my study buddy to keep me from falling asleep." Once the Latina noticed Mercedes talking with Sam, she quickly slid between the two, pushing herself against a surprised Sam.

"Hi," he uttered, his eyes surprised and pleading with Mercedes for help.

"Has anyone ever told you that your lips don't really fit with your face?" Santana commented, running a finger along Sam's plump bottom lip.

"Excuse me?"

"You know where they would fit?" he shook his head, allowing her to continue, "In my lady loins." Sam didn't respond, only took a large step back when Santana lifted the skirt of her cheerleading uniform to illustrate her point.

"Down, girl," Mercedes urged, pulling down Santana's skirt. "Sam this is Satan - I mean, Santana. Santana this is Sam. And if you'll excuse us, Sam, we should really get going."

"Nice to meet you, guppy lips. The offer stands by the way, as soon as you decide you want some, you come find me, okay?" Santana insisted over her shoulder as Mercedes pulled her down the hall.

The rest of day was easy. Mercedes didn't have to see Sam again until her show choir practice after school. He stayed close to Blaine, Artie, who joined the club a couple of weeks prior, and a lean Asian guy named Mike. Mercedes was glad for the new additions, quickly informing all of them that she was the leader but the iron fist approach wasn't her style. She happily listened to Mike's request of more intricate dance routines as well as any other ideas the new recruits offered. After their practice, Mercedes headed to her locker, ready to end the long day and head home but she knew she wouldn't get back to her house as quickly when she felt a passing smack on her ass by Puck who tried to walk past her with a large grape slushie in hand.

"What are you up to, Puck?" she asked, pausing her gathering of her homework.

He turned to face her, stopping his path down the hall in the direction of the new glee club members. A sly grin crept across his face as he walked back to her. "Nothing, beautiful. I was just going to give the new boys a little welcome."

She looked over her shoulder to the happily chatting bunch, not wanting to see Puck hurt the new boys she demanded, "Don't you dare."

His shoulders slumped and his smile turned into a pout as he whined, "Why not? All newbies are fair game, especially when they're still wearing those ridiculous ass blazers." He pointed to the group who still weren't aware of the trouble they were in.

"Just skip those ones for now, will you?" she implored, pulling the slushie from his hand and tossing it into a nearby trash can. "Let them fuck up and then you can slushie them all you want."

He turned to the group then back to Mercedes, a knowing smirk twisting his lips, "Which one is it?"

She returned to her locker, shoving the last of her books into her bag, "I don't know what you mean." She offered a wave to the group of her new friends as they passed by her and Puck and made their way out of the building.

Mercedes slammed her locker closed but before she could walk away, Puck moved behind her, pressing her against the lockers and rasping into her ear, "Which one do you have the hots for Mama? 'Cause I'm hittin' him the hardest."

"Noah," she warned pushing him back with her body only to be pushed harder into the cool metal lockers.

He swept her long, dark hair over her shoulder, leaning in to lick the shell of her ear, "You know I love it when you call me that. Just let me show those punk's who the boss is around here and I'll meet you in the janitor's closet." He punctuated his request with a thrust of his hips that had Mercedes feeling his hard to ignore arousal.

She tried to be stern as he laid his hands on her thighs and began caressing her legs, "Behave. And keep your hands off of them, especially the blond one, he's Tana's."

One of his hands slid between her thighs to cup her sex, "So you're not taking any of them?"

"I didn't say that."

A lingering kiss to her neck made her shiver as he announced, "Well, you know your favorite horse is _always_ ready for a ride," another buck of his hips and Mercedes had to bite her bottom lip to stop the moan she felt trying to escape, "especially by my favorite rider. Don't waste your time on the fresh meat when you have a seasoned vet at your disposal."

"Shouldn't you be going to see what you missed in class?"

"Shouldn't you be letting me hit that ass?" Mercedes elbowed him hard in the gut getting him to move back so she could move toward the exit.

"Bye, Noah," she said over her shoulder once she put some distance between her and her former lover. Normally, she'd give in to Puck, and he'd be sneaking into her room in the middle of night, giving her some of the famously great sex he often bragged about, and be sneaking back out leaving her to spread selfishly across her full-sized bed and fall into a deep, satisfied sleep. The urges were still there for him, to allow his rough hands to do as they pleased with her body the way he used to on a more than daily basis during the height of their non-relationship. But something inside of her wasn't in the mood for Puck's shenanigans and she was reminded of that fact when he yelled after her.

"You know I called myself a horse because of my co-" he began to shout down the empty hall.

"BYE! Noah."

Mercedes arrived home just in time to help her mother prepare dinner for their family and her best friends who had invited themselves over for the meal. After dinner, Mercedes, Santana, and Kurt retired to her bedroom to share in their weekly tradition of a sleepover night filled with gossip, junk food, and raucous pillow fights. Santana gushed about Sam, giving entirely too detailed descriptions of what she'd do to the guy if she ever got him alone. Mercedes listened politely, not wanting to quell her friend's confidences by saying that she really didn't think Sam would be Santana's type. The boy seemed too shy and dorky to want to get near the spitfire of a young woman. But why should she ruin her friend's hopes? Even if part of her wanted Santana to shut up about Sam and give someone else, someone more fitting, the opportunity to pursue him.

Time seemed to pass quickly after that day with the various clubs and sports finally getting into full swing. The Jackson boys settled in nicely at McKinley, each seeming to find their niche at the school. Mercedes was glad to hear that Sam joined the football team and had taken her advice of seeing a tutor to help him with his reading. Every day in their first period, he'd prattle on about his life while they waited for class to start. Mercedes would try to remain uninterested but she couldn't help giggling when Sam would do impersonations of his football coach, talk about the differences between Jackson and McKinley, or tell enthralling stories about the comic books his nose always seemed to be buried in.

Mercedes found herself standing up for Sam when Puck showed up to class and tried to get Sam to move to a different seat, she offered him gum and any other snack she brought to class, and even began to thank him for the endless stream of compliments, giving out a few of her own in return. She wasn't sure what was going on with she and Sam or why she had become fond of him so quickly, but she had to check herself when her heart actually sank when she walked into class one day to find Puck in Sam's seat with a shit-eating grin on his face like that of an eager student. She wasn't able to pay attention in class at all especially, not with Puck's hands making several attempts to sweep their way up her skirt but she also kept turning around to where Sam sat a few rows behind her. He'd always be looking when she glanced back, smiling when their eyes locked and she'd quickly turn front again. She sighed heavily, questions running through her mind. Why was she sad about not getting to sit next to Sam for a day? How did the new boy get under her skin so fast?

Who did he think he was?

* * *

**Strike Two: You're pretty fly for a white guy**

"I think the red one," Santana stated thoughtfully, pausing from applying her makeup to match the fitted magenta dress she wore and look at the dresses Mercedes had laid out on the bed.

Kurt rolled his eyes, giving Santana a playful shove, "You would, just because I told her to wear the black." Kurt was dressed simply but neatly in a pair of navy slacks, black military-style jacket and white collared shirt.

Mercedes sighed, wondering how her friends were yet again picking out her clothes for her. She showed up to Santana's house to get ready for the party not feeling like explaining to her parents why the sleepover she said she was going to required her to wear a dress and killer heels. She brought along as many dress and shoe combinations that she could sneak out of the house and now stood in Santana's room getting advice from she and Kurt on which one to put on. She held up the black dress again, wiggling around slightly in the mirror, "Why don't I wear the black one with the red heels?" she proposed.

"Perfect," Kurt announced, pushing up from Santana's silk sheet covered bed to help Mercedes into her dress. Once she was zipped into the tight, black capped sleeved dress, adorned with a few gold accessories, sprayed with her favorite perfume, and had her curled hair fluffed once more by Kurt, the two made it downstairs to join Santana in the last preparations for the party.

People began arriving in little droves, none of them empty-handed, and the large kitchen began to fill with alcohol and snacks faster than the trio could organize everything. They gave up, opting to let everyone find their own way around the refreshments and begin to enjoy the party themselves. After several cups of Kurt's legendary Party Punch, Mercedes found herself sandwiched between Tina and Santana grinding in a dirty dance that earned them several appreciative, though ignored, looks from some of the male partygoers. Out of the corner of her eye, Mercedes spotted Sam deep in conversation with Puck and Finn. She wasn't sure if they were looking at her but when Sam raised a long finger in her direction, she knew something was up.

"What could those three possibly be talking about?" Mercedes asked, turning in the sandwich to face Santana instead of Tina.

"I don't know, they're all athletes so they're probably talking about balls of some sort," Tina quipped, digging into her cup to fish out the alcohol soaked gummy bears that were Kurt's secret ingredient.

"I'm curious now," Santana added, surveying the guys who had resumed their discussion, "I'll go check it out."

When Santana found Mercedes again, she was in the kitchen with Tina and Kurt mixing up another batch of punch.

"Guess what I found out?" Santana sang, wrapping a drunken arm around Tina's shoulder and continuing before anyone could ask her to do so, "Apparently, Lisa Rinna has a crush and he wants to sing a little diddy for yours truly."

Mercedes would have missed the ting of jealously that panged her chest if she had been doing anything else but as she stood in the kitchen, only able to focus on Santana's words as she watched Kurt she could only utter a quiet, "Oh, that's nice," as she tried to stop the sick feeling in her stomach.

"Honestly, I'm not even interested," Santana admitted, taking a handful of gummy bears, "He was cute when he was new but I swear if he mentions Justin Bieber one more time I will track down the little Canadian child and beat Sam over the head with him."

Kurt shrugged, pouring a generous amount of alcohol into a large punch bowl, "It's not that bad, and the guy is cute so he'll always have that going for him."

"He's more than just a cute face, Kurt," Mercedes said quietly, earing curious looks from each of her friends. "I mean, I'm sure he's got other stuff going for him."

"Guess what else he's got going for him?" Santana teased with her mouth full of candy.

Mercedes took the bait, "What?"

"His virginity."

Each of them let out differently inflected drunken gasps. "You're lying," Tina insisted, tossing a fist of candy in Santana's direction.

"Cross my heart and hope to cry in public. Puck said he admitted it after a few beers the other night. Apparently he's also a lightweight; they had to carry the poor thing home."

Kurt shook his head, returning to his concoction, "Who would have thought?"

"Not me, I don't have time for babies though. Santana's not a teacher, she's a doer. But I guess I can listen to his little song, it would be rude of me to not give the guy a chance to woo me."

"When have you ever cared about being rude?" Mercedes scoffed, trying to hide the jealously in her voice.

"Shut it," Santana demanded, grabbing Mercedes' hand and pulling she and Tina from the kitchen, "Come on, let's go see what the big-lipped wonder has in store for me."

When they made it back to the living room, Sam had already set up with a guitar slung over his shoulder as he sat on a stool surrounded by Puck, with another guitar, Artie, Finn, and Mike. Kurt, Santana, Tina, and Mercedes found places on a couch in front of the group and sat as they waited for the show to begin.

Sam took a deep breath and put an attention-grabbing hand into the air as the party quieted noticeably to watch the spectacle, "So, there is this really special girl at McKinley who I'd like to ask out," he said, cheeks reddening severely. "She's beautiful, she's smart, and she's really funny but every time I get near her I just end up babbling like an idiot so I thought this might be a better way to get her attention." He looked to his sides, nodding to his impromptu band mates who began to bounce and sway while Finn counted off the beginning of the song.

"_I don't why you care_," Sam started to sing, "_He doesn't even know you're there. 'Cause he don't love your eyes and he don't love your smile. Girl, you know that ain't fair_."

Mercedes knew the song immediately as she began to mouth the lyrics and sway to the rhythm. She didn't notice Sam's eyes on her the entire time he sang until the rest of the guys joined him in singing. They harmonized well together and Mercedes knew that she'd probably begin urging Puck and Finn to join the show choir come Monday. Sam sounded amazing on the lead vocals and upset as Mercedes was by the fact that despite staring at her, he was still dedicating the song to Santana, she was still wet between the legs watching the group perform. Artie took the rap part of the song, earning several hoots from a few bothered ladies in the audience but shaking off the attention like a true performer.

A loud applause swept through the room when the song ended and the five guys took a few proud bows.

"So, what do you say?" Sam asked, setting down his guitar and walking in the direction of the couch Mercedes and her friends sat on, "Will you go out with me?" Santana played coy, batting her eyes and pretending not to look at Sam but that changed the moment he grabbed Mercedes' hand and grinned while he waited for her answer. An amused gasp escaped Santana's mouth coupled with giggles from Tina and Kurt.

"Dude!" Puck shouted in confusion, "I thought the song was for Santana. You sneaky little bastard, got me up here singing like I'm one of the fucking Temptations so you can ask out Mercedes!?"

Sam gripped Mercedes' hand tighter, steeling himself to the spot where he stood, "I thought I was clear. I pointed to her, not Santana."

"Sitting right here, assholes," an annoyed Santana chimed in. "You can have him Cedes, I'm not into this sappy bullshit."

"He can't have her. Why should the new kid get the cream of the crop?" Puck asserted.

"Can it, Puckerman," Quinn piped up, making her way to the front of the crowd. Ever since calling a truce on the two-year long feud Quinn had with Santana, the two had become something akin to friends and she was always invited to any shindig the group put together. Normally, she kept a low profile, drinking and dancing occasionally, but mostly just enjoying the time to let her hair down. She stepped between Sam and a fast-approaching Puck, pushing against the olive-skinned man's chest. "He can ask out who he pleases, Mercedes isn't your property. Besides, she seemed to enjoy his little song and you didn't do half bad on those background vocals. Everyone can come out of this little sickening display looking good if you just shut the fuck up."

Puck looked her up and down before licking his lips, "I knew it, Fabray. I knew you wanted a piece of the sex shark."

"Please, I'm just not going to let you trample over my brother."

"Your what?" Santana squealed.

Quinn huffed, folding her arms, "It's a long story. The abridged version is, same mom, different dads, yadayadayada. Now just let the girl answer the damn question already."

All eyes turned to Mercedes, including Sam's, whose smile began to fade the longer she sat silent. Finally, she shot up from the couch, pulling him behind her and through the crowd, through the kitchen, and out the back door to the enclosed patio.

As soon as the doors closed behind them, Sam began a flustered ramble, "I'm sorry if I embarrassed you. I knew I shouldn't have picked a lame ass *Nsync song. I had this really great John Legend song I was going to sing - you would have loved it. I know you really like music and when you said you thought I had a sexy voice I thought that maybe it would be a good idea for me to-"

Mercedes cut him off, grabbing his face and pressing her lips to his in a heated kiss. The smile was back as she pulled away and stared into his dazed eyes, "I'd love to go out with you, Sam."

"That's all you had to say in the first place," he joked, pressing his forehead to hers and moving in for another kiss.

* * *

**Strike Three: Causing a sex riot**

The next couple of weeks with Sam were increasingly difficult for Mercedes. Not only was he an absolute gentleman, escorting her out on several proper dates, meeting her parents, and introducing her to his family, he also shared in her interests, attending her piano recitals with the same enthusiasm she reserved for cheering him on from the stands of any sporting event. Being with Sam wasn't hard at all. The conversation was easy and Mercedes never had a day where her cheeks weren't sore from smiling so much. The part that proved difficult was being _alone_ with Sam. A lot of the private time they spent together ended up in their lips locking and their hands exploring one another's bodies. Mercedes knew she was in trouble the first time she felt Sam's hardness pressed against her middle as they made out in his room one evening. The boy was working with more than just a little bit and as much as Mercedes wanted to free the beast from his jeans, she had to keep reminding herself that Sam was a virgin and that it would only be right to take it slow. But the way he grinded his hips against her, allowed his large hands to roam her body freely, and made her several suggestive promises, caused her to quickly become lost in Sam at any given moment. Slowly, she taught him the basics of pleasure, giving and receiving it, and he proved himself a natural in the promiscuous activities.

They started with touches, exploring and getting to know one another's bodies, marking one another and storing away the knowledge of their most sensitive areas for later use. Soon, the touches escalated and Mercedes fingers familiarized themselves with Sam's manhood and Sam's own digits probed Mercedes' center without hesitation. After a few sessions clad in only their underwear, they graduated to being fully nude in front of one another, using tongues and fingers to offer hours of pleasure. Mercedes was more than ready to move their relationship forward and by the way Sam never failed to initiate their sexy times, she hoped her hunch that he was ready as well was right.

Walking with him to his locker one Friday after school Mercedes suggested, "You should come see me this weekend, my parents are going to be gone," Sam's eyes got a little bigger as he busied himself with his books. Sensing his nervousness she quickly added, "If you want to, I was thinking movie marathon, junk food, and some cuddling."

He smiled, biting his bottom lip and relaxing, "I like all of those things and I'd love to do them with you. How's Saturday sound?"

Standing on her tip toes, she gave Sam a quick peck, "I'll be ready," she said with a wink and a sweet wave as she walked away.

Mercedes' Friday evening was spent helping her parents pack and prepare for their trip. They left early the next morning, leaving their only daughter with an envelope of money, a fridge full of food, and a strict policy of "No parties, no staying up too late, and no boys except for Kurt." The rest of the morning, Mercedes dedicated to planning out her day with Sam, taking a trip to the mall to pick up a few things, only to be interrupted when she was called upon to settle an argument between Kurt and his newly minted boyfriend, Blaine. She and Tina were the only friends available to settle the dispute as Finn, Santana, Puck, and Quinn had decided to go on a group date that Blaine and Kurt pulled out of once they began their little spat. Tina was itching to leave, spending most of her time parked on Kurt's bed giggling at the text messages she was constantly sending.

Once Mercedes pulled all of the details from her sobbing friend, she was annoyed to find out that the argument began when Kurt realized that Blaine hadn't once worn the designer bow tie Kurt had picked out especially for his birthday. Kurt had refused each of Blaine's apologies and Mercedes tried to smooth over the situation failing miserably until a knock on the door revealed Blaine on Kurt's doorstep wearing nothing but a trench coat, a pair of dress shoes, and the aforementioned bow tie. Tina and Mercedes took their cue to leave, quickly getting back into Mercedes' car before Blaine could open his coat.

Pulling up to Tina's house Mercedes noticed her friend's hesitation to exit the vehicle as she sat failing to hide the wide smile on her face behind her small hand.

"What is it, T?" Mercedes asked, turning her full attention to her nearly bursting passenger.

"Sooooooo, Mike said Sam's been asking him for sex advice!" Tina blurted out, her brown, highlighted hair flying as she bounced in her seat.

Mercedes eyes bugged, "What!?"

"Don't you dare 'what' me! I should be asking you _what_ you have planned for your little evening with Sam, Jonesie," Tina teased, bopping Mercedes on her scrunched nose.

"Just movies and some cuddling, maybe we'll order a pizza, nothing special," she supplied, focusing on the cup holders between them.

"You are a lying liar who lies, Mercedes. Movies and cuddling don't require special pink panties," Tina squeaked, pulling the new lacy garment from one of the shopping bags in Mercedes' back seat and waving it around.

"Tina! You give those back," Mercedes yelled, wrestling the underwear from her giggling friend.

"You're going to pop his cherry tonight aren't you?" Tina teased. "This is so precious, I'm proud of you, babe."

Mercedes uttered an unsure, "Thanks," before letting out the laugh she'd been holding in. "And when, may I ask, are you going to let Mike pop yours?" Tina grinned, quickly bringing her hands up to cover her face much to Mercedes' delight. "Tina Cohen-Chang, you bad girl!"

Tina's face was red as she reached for the door handle, "I think I should get going, I'm going to go meet Mike for his lunch break."

"Yeah, I'm sure you'll give him a break all right."

"Bye Mercy!" Tina yelled, shutting the car door behind her.

Mercedes rolled down the window to shout a final, "Don't hurt him, T!"

Tina was quick with her response, "You just make sure Sam can still walk on Monday!" she retorted running up the stairs and into her house.

It was already well into the evening by the time Sam arrived. Mercedes had prepared the den, lying out several pillows and blankets on the floor so they could cuddle more comfortably, as well as the movie options, and several bags of tooth-rotting candy she kept hidden away from her dentist father. After a promising kiss at the door, she led Sam into the den and the two decided to watch an old X-Men movie that was quickly forgotten the moment Sam pulled Mercedes into his lap and began to play between her legs. The scenes on the screen all jumbled together as Sam's fingers probed her wet center and he applied tender kisses to her temple, urging her to come for him. When she did, she gripped his thighs, bucking against his hand and leaning into the firm hold he had on her breasts. It only took her a second to turn around and climb on top of him as he brought his sticky fingers to his mouth and began to lick her essence from them. She took his lips hungrily, moving her body against the tent in Sam's jeans, hoping that her next orgasm would come from his cock instead of his fingers.

Sam pulled away from their intense kisses abruptly, looking into her eyes, "Mercy?" he asked against her lips.

"Yeah?"

"Would it be possible for us to-"

"Would you like to go upstairs, Sam?" she supplied praying she was moving in the direction he wanted to.

"If you want to."

"I want to. Do you?"

He answered quickly, moving to get up before the words "I do," had fully left him.

Most of their clothes quickly found their way to the plush carpet in Mercedes' room. Sam took the lead at first, moving over her topless form, gently kissing and nipping the sensitive flesh of her breasts while deliberately rubbing the center of her soaked underwear. He replaced his hand with his mouth, laving over the darkened material of her panties with his tongue and using his nose to tease her clit. Tugging her panties off with his teeth, and a little help from his warm hands, Sam returned his tongue to her, using the flexible organ as well as his long fingers to please her.

A heated pride filled Mercedes body as her second orgasm of the night rushed over her, curling her toes and causing her to fist a firm hand in the blond head of hair still working diligently between her thighs. Compliments for her quick-learning student spilled from her as she came down, pulling him up to meet her in a series of thankful pecks. She rolled on top of Sam, feeling his breath quicken as she began a trail of kisses down his midsection. He seemed slightly less confident with her on top, shivering as she laved over one of his nipples and played with the other.

She paused, taking in his concentrated breathing, "We don't have to do anything you don't want to, sweetie. If at any point you want me to stop, just say so."

He nodded, exhaling, "Okay."

"Keep talking to me, Sammy. If there is anything you like or you don't like I want you to tell me. I'll do the same."

Another nod, "Okay."

"Sam?"

"Okay."

"Are you alright?"

"I'm - uh - okay."

"Just relax, trust me." She resumed her downward trail, removing her lips from him long enough to remove his boxers before applying the same measured kisses to his thighs, parting his legs as she did so. Sam had put his mouth on Mercedes plenty of times, always eager to get her off with his tongue but whenever she tried to do the same, he'd quickly claim her lips with his own and they'd end up finishing him off with a handjob. Mercedes had wanted to taste her boyfriend's thick, impressive length for quite some time but didn't want to push him.

"I dreamed about this a lot," he admitted as she took him into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the dripping, reddened tip of him. She looked up at him, letting him know she was listening but couldn't offer any words from her full mouth, "I just - I didn't think I would be able to last very long with that mouth of yours on me, shitshitshit!" he choked out, "Baby?"

"Hmmm?" she questioned, mouth still wrapped around him slightly relishing in the groan her humming caused.

"What do I do with my hands?"

She sighed gently, pulling him from her mouth, "Whatever you want. Where were they in your dream?"

"In your hair, but I don't want to mess it up, it looks so nice," he said sweetly.

Mercedes had to smile at her dork of a boyfriend, "Sam, you can mess up anything you damn well please on me. You're the only person I have to worry about looking good for anyway."

He grinned, licking his lips, "Right."

"May I?" she asked, gesturing toward the very hard piece of him in her hand.

"Please."

She returned to his cock, taking him back into her mouth and drawing encouragement from the tight hold he took on her hair and the grunts and groans of pleasure filling the room. Popping him from her mouth, she licked his shaft, bringing her tongue down to lave gently over his balls while she worked him with her hand then returned her hungry tongue to the head of him. While sucking in her cheeks for a tighter grip, she also increased her efforts with her hands, not even slowing when Sam's face turned into an almost pained expression that she knew too well. She looked up at him, moaning and urging him to cum until she felt him shooting his hot, thick cream into her mouth.

"How was that?" she asked crawling up his body and pressing her lips to his.

"Amazing," he sighed. "I think I need a moment."

"Take as much time as you need, babe." She lay on top of his still shaking body, running a lazy hand along his chest to calm him and allowing herself to fall asleep soon after he did.

Mercedes was woken what felt like a few minutes later when Sam rolled himself over to lay on top of her and began kissing her body passionately. When he reached her lips, she was fully awake and beginning to thrust her hips upward to rub her pussy against the hard-on sliding between her legs. She pointed Sam in the direction of the condoms sitting on her nightstand and allowed him to take the initiative to grab one as soon as he was ready. After a few roaming fingers found their way in and out of her slick folds he reached for the condom, permitting Mercedes to help him put it on properly before settling himself back between her legs and offering a nervous smile as he carefully began to push himself into her warmth. Mercedes had never felt so full before, so stuffed, and hardly able to move as Sam started to maneuver inside of her, his hands still roaming over every inch of her, seeing which part of her liked to be touched the most while she was fucked. He soon found out it was a close tie between her clit and her nipples and he spent time rubbing and pinching each of the hardened nubs while he worked his hips.

"You feel so good, baby," he praised between panting breaths, "I knew you would, Mercy. Every fucking part of you. Fuuuuuck."

He cried out her name as he pushed himself in and out of her, pushing her legs up and twisting his hips around to allow his thrusts to reach the spot that had her clawing his forearms and shouting curse words she never before had a reason to use. The words seemed more than appropriate for the time being as Sam's thrusts became quicker and a wave of heat rushed over her, pushing her into another climax. Though her body trembled wildly, she still tried to participate, rubbing her clit and pushing her hips into Sam's until he took a bruising hold of her sides, driving into her roughly as his release overtook his body and after another garbled cry, he collapsed on top of her. He almost crushed her with his damp body but Mercedes hugged him closer, not ready for him to remove himself from her. Their deep breathing turned into a few grateful kisses before Sam disposed of the condom and returned to her arms, wrapping himself around her, snuggling sleepily into the curve of her neck after a good night kiss.

Mercedes was almost asleep again but shewas positive that she heard the mumble of, "I love you," coming from Sam's mouth parked against her neck.

What was so special about this one?

Finally, she could answer the question that had been plaguing her for the past several months as she whispered a faint, "I love you," into the darkness surrounding them and felt Sam wrap just a little tighter around her.

* * *

**According to a couple of you, we're doing this. So, allow me to describe our first date: I'm just going to say it involves a moonlit stroll, a casual dinner for two, and one of your favorite films. Do I get a second date? Let me know, reviews below. **


	14. Getting Creative

**Hey! So, I'm going to try and catch this up with my tumblr so I'm going to attempt to upload the next couple of stories as quickly as possible. Please bear with me and don't forget to leave reviews if you have time :)**

**__****This one-shot features: College crushes, jealous! Sam, my only love, short stories, and cheesecake**

* * *

He really shouldn't have dropped that Creative Writing class.

"It'll be fun," Mercedes insisted.

"I want to take a class with my Sammy," she pouted.

"_We can study together_," she suggested in a less than wholesome tone.

It didn't take long for Sam to cave to her whim, securing one of the last spots in the early morning class. He didn't mind that the 8 AM, tri-weekly event was a sore thumb in his carefully arranged schedule of afternoon classes, seeing as it was always nice to sneak back to the apartment for a nap or go out to breakfast with Mercedes following class. He didn't mind that he'd be expected to produce a few pieces and offer critique of his classmate's work. He figured since the course was considered entry-level, as far as creative writing classes were concerned, he'd be able to get by with a few stories he'd already thought out and some encouraging words here and there whenever he was called on to speak.

What Sam did mind, was the ten-page packet of a syllabus the young professor handed out on the first day. Not only were there separate sections of the class dedicated to poetry, fiction, and non-fiction coupled with an extensive reading list, there were also several critical thinking writing assignments where each student would be forced to analyze various items from the suggested readings. Sam tuned out after that, mumbling a harsh, "No," as he pushed the packet away from him, already planning his trip to the registrar's office to change his schedule.

Though Sam had no desire to return to the class, he was more than happy to listen to Mercedes chatter excitedly about her foray into the writing world. She had taken the class with the hope of expanding her literary knowledge as well as practicing her writing skills and he was glad that she was excelling in yet another area. That was, until she began a series of slightly over-flattering comments about the professor Sam barely remembered from his single appearance in the class.

"He's so intelligent," she gushed.

"Can you believe he has a doctorate degree? He's so young," she complimented.

"Too bad he's married," she lamented.

Sam perked up at the final statement Mercedes made one night over a dinner he'd spent most of the evening cooking. He'd been listening politely about her latest writing assignment, offering ideas and suggestions as she went along but somehow the conversation had turned into yet another opportunity for Mercedes to fawn over her teacher.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam asked, putting down his fork and giving his smirking girlfriend his full attention.

She shrugged, shaking her head and returning to her pasta, "Nothing, Sammy. He's just really handsome, and educated, and funny, and-"

He put a hand up, not wanting to hear any more about the "amazing" man, "Stop," he requested.

Mercedes laughed, putting down her fork and pushing her plate away, "Are you jealous? You have nothing to worry about, I'm sure I'm not even his type."

Sam scoffed, his appetite completely lost, "And what if you are? Are you going to run off with him?"

"Sam, you are crazy. I wouldn't do anything like that. I'm not the eloping type; he'd have to take me on a couple of dates first. Then, if he asked me to marry him I guess I'd consider it." Sam was completely taken aback by her casual tone, almost offended by the way in which she talked about ending their relationship in favor of one with a man much older and more experienced than he.

"Mercedes!" he yelled, scooting his chair away from the table.

She was quick to place a calming hand over his forearm and offer a gentle smile, "I'm kidding, sweetie. When did you get so serious?"

"Do you hear yourself right now? You don't even know this guy and you're sitting here gushing like he's the mayor of perfectown." Sam had lost control of his wildly gesturing hands, allowing his limbs to flail as more worried words left his mouth.

Mercedes remained calm as she got up to clear the table, "You're overreacting, Sam. I just think he's a great guy is all. Excuse me for being a little fond of the only professor who has ever really inspired me. I thought I would suck at creative writing but he's bringing out parts of me I didn't even know existed." She moved to the sink in their cozy kitchen to begin washing the few dishes they'd used for dinner.

Sam sat silent for a moment, mulling over his thoughts before speaking again. With a deep breath he said, "I think you should withdraw from that class."

He heard the water from the sink abruptly shut off and he was sure he heard the whipping sound of Mercedes turning to face him. He didn't have to look at her to know that her hands were on her hips and she was already gearing up to begin her signature neck roll, "Why would I do that? I love the class," she asked, moving closer to the table.

He still couldn't look at her, still allowing his insecurities to speak for him, "Because I think this obsession you have with your teacher isn't healthy."

"It's not an obsession," she sighed, her tone soft as she continued, "I just think he's a fantastic teacher, nothing more."

"A fantastic teacher that you apparently want a piece of," he mumbled, recalling the conversation he overheard her having with Tina a few nights prior. He had tried to shake off the joking comment but it still nagged at him each time she brought up the professor.

"Sam," she uttered sternly, not continuing until he turned to face her, "Were you eavesdropping on my conversation?"

"You were talking loud enough that I could hear you in the living room. But don't try and turn this around, we're not talking about me tonight. You're the one who's planning on running off with your professor."

She threw her arms up, walking from the kitchen with Sam on her heels, "You can't be serious right now."

"I am. I'm very serious. How am I supposed to feel? You talk about this damn guy all the time. Do you talk about me that often? Does he know about me?" She didn't answer as she walked to the closet to pull out her coat. "Where are you going?"

Grabbing a beret and her scarf, she continued to get ready to leave, "Sam, I don't have time for this. You can have your little freak out without me, right? I have a lecture to attend."

"What lecture? I thought we were having movie night tonight."

"It was last minute; Daniel invited me to a talk about music in literature."

"Who is Daniel?" Sam questioned, his stomach already turning at the thought of more competition. He'd already fought for Mercedes in high school and he swore he'd spend the rest of his life fighting if he had to but she wasn't supposed to be aiding the enemy.

"Dr. Morris," she explained, heading toward the door.

Sam rushed in front of her, blocking her path, "No. You're not going."

Her little brown hands were on her hips again and Sam gulped as she took a step closer to him asking, "Why aren't I?"

"Because I don't want you to go. Am I really just supposed to sit here and let you go on a date with this guy."

"He is _married_, Sam. It's hardly a date. And last I checked, I was in a pretty serious relationship with a guy I'm kind of living with right now and have already admitted to being very much in love with." She reached for the doorknob only to have Sam's large hand cover it.

"What if he tries to make a move on you, Mercedes? I don't trust him."

"You don't know him! I'm going to this lecture because I'm really interested in the topic. I don't give a crap whether Daniel-"

"Please don't call him that," Sam insisted, in a frustrated huff.

"Fine. I don't give a crap whether _Dr. Morris_ is there or not. I'm doing this for myself. You can even come if you want."

It was Sam's turn to scoff at the half-assed invitation, "I think I'll pass."

"Fine," she said, making her way toward the living room. Sam didn't move from the door, staying put until she came back with a folder in hand. "And since you're in such a sour mood I guess this is a good time to show you this." She shoved the folder at him, forcing him to take it from her hands. "I submitted it to the school's literary magazine and it was accepted. I was going to wait to show you until it got published but I think you need to see it right now." Sam opened the folder, quirking an eyebrow at the document it contained entitled "My Only Love" not noticing as Mercedes opened the door and squeezed past him. "I'll be back in a few hours. You can wait up if you want," she said, closing the door behind her and heading off.

Sam stared at the first page for what felt like hours, both excited and nervous to read what Mercedes had written. Once he'd gotten past the title, mulling each off the words over in his head and praying they pertained to him, he began to read. What started as a thoughtful frown, soon turned into an elated smiled and a battle against the tears welling up in his eyes. Mercedes had written about _him_. About their fight to be together after she graduated high school and moved across the country with his full support. About finding their way back to one another after two years apart, and about the amazing relationship they were currently involved in, one that he had possibly put a crack in by being the stereotypically jealous boyfriend. Sam knew possession, he knew it well, but jealously was different and somewhat new for him and he fought off the emotion as long as he could, finally admitting to it when he read the last paragraph of Mercedes' short story. He owned up to how he was feeling, to the fact that he was afraid of losing someone so important to him. Sam loved Mercedes, deeply, truly, and quickly reminded himself of all the ways in which she proved those same feelings to him over the years.

When Mercedes returned to their apartment Sam was waiting for her. He rose up from his perch on the couch the moment the door opened, only waiting for her to put away her coat and hat before gathering her in his arms and bringing his lips to meet hers. Once he explained to her that he'd read her story she eagerly returned his kisses, not protesting as he led her into the kitchen to partake in the strawberry swirl apology cheesecake he'd run out to get.

Feeding one another the rich dessert turned into Sam "accidentally" dropping pieces of it down Mercedes' blouse and expertly fishing them out with his tongue. Sam delighted in her squeals, fighting against her playful pushes and continuing to clumsily feed her until her white top was damp and covered in red spots.

"You should take that off," he suggested, hungry for more of her soft brown skin. She obliged his request, allowing him to remove her top and fling it aside before returning his lips to kiss every inch of her newly exposed flesh and pick up any crumbs he'd left behind. After realizing a few were stuck down in her bra he got her to remove that as well, immediately moving to take the pointed brown nubs that greeted him into his mouth.

Mercedes moaned softly, letting him lick, and suck, and nip to his heart's content only stopping him when his hand moved to unbutton her jeans. "I don't think you got any cheesecake down there," she teased, running a hand through his short blond hair.

He nuzzled against her, "All I'm trying to do is finish my dessert, Ms. Jones. Why won't you let a hungry man eat?" His gorgeous girlfriend grinned, licking her lips as she tried to think of a comeback. After a few moments, she stood up from her seat, letting Sam relieve her of her pants, lift her up, and place her on the kitchen table.

"Sammmmmmy," she moaned.

"Oh, shit, baby!" she yelled.

"I'mgonnacome, I'mgonnacome," she panted.

The last admission hadn't taken as long as Sam expected. He had only begun to have his way with the soft, curvy body he loved to worship and knew that they were headed for a long night despite Mercedes' early morning class. He hummed against her clit, brushing his tongue over the sensitive nub occasionally as three long fingers swirled expertly around her pulsating center. Sam loved cheesecake, always eating more of the dessert than he should, but he loved the way Mercedes tasted even more. He lapped up every drop of her that he could, relishing in her sweet and tart taste, and gripping her thighs to keep her legs open as he feasted.

The apology that had been waiting on the tip of his tongue as soon as she walked back into the door finally fell from him, "I'm sorry, Mercy," he mumbled, between kisses to her swollen lips and caresses to her still shaking body.

"I knew you would be," she stated, cupping his cheek.

"How are you even talking to me? I was an idiot."

She giggled, admitting, "I know the feeling. I was less than myself last month when you tried to introduce me to that girl from your design class whose work you thought was 'the best ever.' I get it. I'm so used to you talking about how great I am it's hard to hear when you talk that way about someone else." Sam nodded, vividly remembering Mercedes' out of character bluntness with his new friend. She continued, "Dr. Morris doesn't mean anything to me, but you, you mean everything to me."

"So, the fact that I love you goes without saying, right?"

"Yes. But after tonight I think you owe me a couple thousand of those."

"I'll start now. I love you."

He continued to utter the phrase as they walked to their bedroom, whispering it as he removed his clothes and climbed into bed with her, hissing it as he slid himself inside of her, and finally, yelling it as he experienced an orgasm close in intensity to the one she'd described in her story.

* * *

**You want a second date, you say? Well I'm more than happy to give it to you. I'm kicking things up a notch because I really like you. **

**Date #2 involves a serenade, a helicopter ride, and a picnic. Is date #3 happening? Let me know, reviews below. **


	15. After the Last Midtown Show

**Before I begin, someone asked if Samcedes would be having sex in every chapter. My answer: Probably. **

**Another prompt request from my tumblr. It's song based, and hopefully a little good. Don't forget to review if you can, even anonymous ones are appreciated. **

**Song used: The Academy Is - "After the Last Midtown Show"**

**SN: This is one of my most favorite songs of all time. I recommend giving it a listen while you read. **

**_This one-shot features: Prom!, reignited romance, memories, sweet sleepovers, and love making. _  
**

* * *

_**It's a drunken midnight on the streets,**_

_**brightly dusted with a neon light.**_

Thanks to Puck's liberal amount of punch spiking, Sam and Mercedes ended up helping several of their friends home. After lugging a giggling Tina into her house and waiting outside as Mercedes helped her into bed, Sam made the final drive in Mercedes' SUV back to the Hudmel house. Streetlights illuminated the quiet block, constantly reminding Sam of how late it was and that they would soon have to call it a night. He had picked her up at twilight, remembering the way the last bit of the sun shone off her dewy skin. She still looked just as bright, staring out of the front window, focused on something he couldn't see.

The plan was to drop him off, to say goodnight, and have Mercedes call him the moment she made it home. However, he was hesitant to leave her, nowhere near tired of her company. So he circled the block once, then a second time. On the third pass, a soft laugh accompanied the words he was nervous and yet longed to hear.

"Sam, it's still kind of early, why don't you come over for a little while?"

He nodded, pushing down the lump in his throat and turning the car around slowly, trying not to seem too eager. The ride was short as he listened to Mercedes quietly singing along to the radio. Her voice soothed his anxious form; her dulcet tones glided through his mind and put him at ease. That voice was one of his many Mercedes Jones-related weaknesses. Sam loved almost any sound that came from it; even when she sobbed, there was still something so beautiful in every cry.

_**Right here, right now**_

In her driveway, they sat stealing shy glances and enjoying a comfortable silence, cuddled close as they could get to one another. Mercedes buried her face against Sam until a nudge from him forced her to look up into the eyes that had been staring at her the whole night. He always thought of her, doting on her for the entire evening, never leaving her side unless absolutely necessary. No one else mattered tonight, just the beautiful, sweetly smiling woman in his arms, the same one who hadn't left his thoughts since he'd been back in Lima, the same one who was proud to have finally gotten back.

Gently, cautiously, he touched her. A light graze of her skin sent chills through him as his fingers moved to cup her cheek. Drawn to her, he inched closer, pausing briefly to watch her eyes flutter shut the way they always did whenever he kissed her. He hadn't noticed it until probably their third or fourth kiss but he was now used to it, relishing in the event for a brief second before pressing their lips together.

Sam fought off the momentary ache in his heart as he remembered the only time it didn't happen. It was when he'd left her last summer. her eyes were filled to the brim with tears and if she blinked too much they would have all come sailing down her face, breaking the little bit of strength each of them were trying to hold on to.

The kiss was not the first of the evening. It was the first one they could have without an audience, without her father clearing his throat as her mother waited to snap another picture or without their friends in an unwavering chorus of "aww." He'd wanted to kiss her like this all night, to have all of her attention and to be able to give her all of his. She deserved every ounce of it, every ounce of him, and he would give her all of him a thousand times over if he could.

Her lips were sweet and her parting mouth invited his tongue inside. She felt warm and soft and perfect against him and he pulled her closer, pressing a firm hand to the small of her back keeping her where she sat. Their kisses became frantic as their tongues played, each of them trying to draw something from the other. Sam wasn't sure what Mercedes needed from him but he just needed to feel her. To take her breath and draw out the quiet moans from the back of her throat and be reminded that she was his again.

Mercedes' fingers fisted into his hair and in return, his clawed at the expansive fabric of her dress, searching for her body. The dip leading to her wonderfully curvy hips couldn't hide very long from him and he twisted toward her, almost out of his seat, trying to feel beyond that part of her. When she pulled away, breaths urgently pushing their way past her lips, she smiled that dazed, adorable smile that could get him to try his hand at brain surgery if she asked him to. The smile, accompanied by her heavily lidded, lightly shadowed eyes had him ready to bend to her will.

"We should go inside," she suggested, waiting for him to respond affirmatively before she began to move in her seat.

Springing from the car, Sam was around to the passenger door before she pushed it open, offering a gentlemanly hand to help her from the vehicle. A quick peck on his cheek served as a 'Thank you' before she retrieved her keys from him and led the way to the front door.

"So, we can hang out for a little bit and I'll take you home whenever you're ready."

He agreed, glad if the most he got to do was hold her. Still, he hoped their night would end with more than just a few moments in each other's arms. Tonight was special, he'd gone through so much trouble to make it perfect for her and there was one last gesture he wanted to complete, to express his love for her in the best way he knew how.

_**I hope before the night is through**_

_**one fumbled touch will finally hit the spot.**_

It had been so long since he touched her in that way. That way that made her bite her lip and coo his name into the air around them. He missed pressing himself against her in their most intimate of embraces, melding his body to hers, and feeling everything around him stop for a moment.

They had decided to take things slow, to allow their reconciliation to move at its own pace but they were kissing before they'd even decided to be a couple again. Keeping their hands off one another only lasted about a week before they were cuddling and allowing their hands to roam freely. They were almost back to normal now, save for having been physically intimate, and though the brain governing his lower half told him to go for it several times before, Sam managed to keep his promise to himself, swearing that he'd hold off until it was time.

"We have to be quiet," she whispered, grabbing handfuls of her dress and moving up the stairs. She peeked into the hallway ahead of him, checking for noise against her parent's closed door. Satisfied with what she heard, she waved him toward the second set of stairs leading to her bedroom and came in on his heels.

Once the door was locked, he wasted no time in touching her again. He didn't know where they were going, where they would end up, but as she dropped his jacket to the floor, removed his tie, and began unbuttoning his shirt, he needed to find out.

He didn't take the time to notice the small changes in her room since the last time he'd been there. The walls were still purple, her bedspread still a matching color, and the decor hadn't really changed other than a few new things here and there. If he had been a little more observant, able to look anywhere other than at Mercedes, he would have noticed the lilac-colored teddy bear he'd won for her last summer. He had a pretty decent arm and 50 cents was small price to pay to watch her face light up as he knocked down the carefully arranged milk bottles in one shot. The bear hadn't made an appearance since they'd been back together and he thought she'd probably gotten rid of it when he left but there it sat, in the middle of her dresser, holding up a photobooth picture of them from the same night.

_**You've got everything going for you,**_

_**so I'll go for you with everything I got.**_

Concentrating on each breath he took, he noticed her hands slowing as she pulled his dress shirt from his pants and caught her worrying her plump bottom lip. Probably nervous, probably unsure, probably changing her mind. Grabbing her hands, he pulled her close, wrapping her around his middle before allowing himself to lean against her much shorter form. He sighed against her, kissing the shell of her ear and thanking her.

She pulled back, her eyes questioning his statement.

"For everything, Mercy," he clarified, "for being you and for being with me."

She lay back against him, cuddling his bare chest. "You don't have to thank me for that," she muttered. He stroked her back, rocking them back and forth until she spoke again, "Sam, I know it's been a while but if you want to-"

Putting a hand beneath her chin, he brought her face to his, "I do, but only if you're ready."

"It's not just about me. Are _you_ ready? I know we've done it before but it's still a big step."

"I know. I guess I've probably just been thinking about it more than you-"

"Don't be so sure of that."

"Really, Miss Jones?" he said, kissing the smile curling her lips, "Anyway, I just feel like I've been ready for a while now. You're mine and I'm yours and I don't want to just tell you that, I want you to feel it too."

"I'm ready, Sam. More than you know."

**_Right here, the best days of our lives_**

**_Is this coincidence or a sign?_**

Sam already intended to record Mercedes' "Disco Inferno" performance, but as he watched the video repeatedly, he knew that someone else, everyone else, needed to see just how amazing she was. He had no plans of what to do after he showed her the video, had no idea of how she'd react, but he needed to do it nonetheless. To his relief, she was grateful, granting him as many kisses as he could fit in in the short amount of time they had together. It wasn't until that night, during a late walk in the park, that they discussed their future and decided to try to be together again.

He was anxious, palms sweaty, mouth dry, as they walked through the deserted area. But when her hand reached out to clasp his, he felt there was nothing to worry about. The upbeat disco song was still playing in his head, just waiting to dance from his lips in an inappropriately timed performance and he felt the need to sing it to her just to make her laugh and ease some of the anxiety out of the trembling fingers interlacing with his.

It was her idea, to get back together, and Sam couldn't agree more, happy that she seemed to miss him just as much as he missed her. Her eyes lit up as she expressed herself openly and he listened intently, hanging on her every word, his jaw dropping open when she'd uttered the word, "boyfriend."

The title was his, she said, the moment he felt ready to claim it. "It was always yours," she admitted, not ready for the tight embrace he placed her in soon after. Mercedes had a habit of doing that to Sam, of bringing emotions out of him against his own will, of being able to build him up and let him down in a single sentence and he didn't mind one bit that she held that power. She held his heart, it was hers to crush or nurture, and he was thankful that she had chosen to do the latter.

_**Is there anything I missed?**_

_**Tell me if I'm wrong,**_

_**but why would we change a thing?**_

They hadn't bothered with the lights once they were in her room though Sam wished for a bit of artificial lighting just to make Mercedes look a little less perfect than she did in the moonlight. He couldn't find a single flaw as he kissed his way down her neck, over her bare shoulders and back to her lips to tell her just how ideal the moment was. Not wanting to rush, he allowed Mercedes to undress him at her own speed. His shirt hit the floor followed by his belt and eventually his pants. Sam never did mind being naked in front of Mercedes, unable to remember a single uncomfortable moment, and as she brought her delicate hands and soft lips to meet his flesh, he knew exactly why.

It was his turn now, to somehow remove her from the puff of purple fabric encasing his prize. Her dress was easier than he thought it would be. A search for a well-hidden zipper was all it took. Once her arm was released from the strap, and the zipper pulled down to her hip, the dress fell around her, dropping into a pool of sparkling purple. Taking in the sight of the lace lingerie that matched her dress he felt his heart rate quicken. Hands shaking, he reached for her, pressing his fingers into her hips and holding her there, studying her.

He hesitated to move his hands. As badly as he wanted her he'd gotten so caught up in the feeling of just having her there again he had started to question whether or not any of this was actually happening. She moved her to cover herself, her eyes drifting toward the floor as her arms wrapped around her midsection.

Instantly, Sam pulled her arms away, tugging her to him, skin to skin in a contact that felt too familiar despite not having been felt in some time. "Mercedes you are so beautiful," he confessed, applying a tender kiss to her lips, "I can't believe you're mine."

She softened, bracing herself against him to step out of the jeweled heels she wore before walking to her bed. He followed her, waiting for her to get settled before climbing in beside her, fitting himself between her legs and resuming the kisses he never wanted to stop. Her bra left her body quickly but her breasts didn't stay uncovered for too long; his tongue and hands made sure of that. Molding her soft flesh, he alternated between sucking, licking, and biting her dark, peaked nipples savoring in every moan of pleasure she let slip.

It had been too long since he'd gotten to watch her like this. He always enjoyed the view from between her thighs, watching her rapidly fall apart as his tongue lapped her steadily and two diligent fingers massaged the little nubbin of nerves that caused her to whimper and twist beneath him. She was almost there, he brought her all the way to the edge, feeling her begin to quiver then he stopped, taking her lips before she could protest and telling her he wasn't done.

He didn't let her finish for a reason, wanting to reach their climaxes at the same time so they could each tip over into that blissful state together. No flashes of uncertainty came across her face as Sam sheathed himself and returned to her. Her thighs wrapped tightly around him, holding him in place long enough for her to whisper that she loved him and for him to return the sentiment. Her grip loosened as he began to push himself into the plush cavern welcoming him in deeper as she pushed up to guide him right where he longed to be.

Sam moved his hips in slow, measured thrusts, unable to pry his eyes away from Mercedes' intense stare as he moved inside of her. He wouldn't break the gaze for fear of damaging the connection they'd made, for fear of her disappearing and him waking up in his own bed sweaty and covered in his own seed. Even as beads of sweat began to pour from him, landing unceremoniously on her damp body he didn't look away, couldn't wipe his face or even kiss her lips because any of those actions would force his eyes shut and disturb the dream he was possibly having.

The bed creaked beneath them and Mercedes did her best to stifle the moans forcing their way out of her by cupping a hand over her own mouth. Sam was sure he was going to bite his bottom lip clean off if he had to keep himself from yelling much longer. He never missed an opportunity to compliment Mercedes and his throat ached for the chance to tell her how good she felt, how good she made him feel.

He couldn't find words as his body began to shake, triggered by the intense clenching of her walls, closing him in when he tried to pull out and making him work to regain access. Her orgasm would always be his undoing and he was never able to last beyond a few more strokes in and out of her soaked center.

A deep, dry cry of her name was all he was able to get out as he crashed his lips to hers, his hips still jerking as his release left his body.

_**When the morning light fights through the cracks**_

_**cascading across the bed, and you are mine.**_

Sam held his breath when a light knock landed on the door the next morning. Mercedes responded to it, her tone sleepy and sluggish. A soft voice let her know that breakfast was on the table and that she should have a good day.

He buried his face into the crook of her neck not quite ready to get up, to remove himself from her embrace. Beyond her bedroom door was everything else, everyone else, most of which didn't mean half as much as she did to him.

He traced gentle patterns on her belly, grazing lovingly against her flesh. She breathed softly beneath him, stroking his hair idly. After a few minutes, she began to rustle, moving out from under him but he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her back.

"We have to get up," she protested, still trying to move from the bed.

"Why?"

"I'm sure someone is wondering why you didn't come home last night."

He decided not to let her hear the string of curse words running through his brain at his foolishness for not calling Kurt or Finn to get one of them to cover for him. He would be in trouble but as he looked over Mercedes, awaiting his reply, he suddenly didn't care. "A few more minutes?" he requested, hopeful for only one answer.

She smiled and nodded, leaning back against him. He kissed her: her forehead, her nose, and breathed a wistful "I love you," before kissing her lips.

_**When we met, I was on my back.**_

_**I swear we spent most afternoons somewhere in the act.**_

He allowed himself daydreams of her, of their time together last summer. Those lazy afternoons by the lake in her arms mirrored the way they were now. The cuddling wasn't always post-coital but it was always warm and satisfying. He'd grown accustomed to the way their bodies fit together, cursing himself for having had to miss out on any moments with her. As he caressed her soft skin, he was thankful that the universe had given him a second chance, another opportunity to make her his again and he wouldn't screw it up. He couldn't. He still remembered the hurt from when he left, the soreness in his chest when she said she couldn't be with him on Valentine's Day, and he was glad that all of those things were only memories now. But the girl he held in his arms, the one whose lips quirked into a devious smile as she sneaked a hand beneath the covers sitting at his waist, she was real, she was now, and she was his. And he would be hers for as long as she would have him.

The bad memories still affected Sam but the good ones outweighed everything else and made every moment of heaviness worth living through. The best of which was probably their first time. He would never forget the somewhat misguided event; it would be forever etched in his mind, replaying on an endless loop. They'd both been nervous and insecure but the way she looked at him, as if he was the only thing in the world she wanted, relaxed him enough to try to convey the same emotions. The sex was slow, fumbling, and initially awkward but once they found their rhythm, using what they learned about one another's bodies over the past couple of months, it became second nature. He quickly grew accustomed to touching Mercedes, learning the dips and curves of her form, learning where she liked to be touched most and memorizing an internal map of her.

She was one of the best memories he had at the time, one of the few great things in his life aside from his family. Sam still considered himself a lucky fella because he had a woman who loved him for whom he was and didn't care that he couldn't offer anything other than his time and his affection though she deserved so much more. Somehow, she was satisfied with picnics, and serenades, and the occasional ice cream cone he could afford to spring for and he would always love her for never worrying about the things he couldn't give her.

_**We were part of something ours, and ours alone.**_

_**Anywhere was home.**_

_**We're almost here again**_.

Sam knew Mercedes in several senses of the word and try as he might, he couldn't forget the things he spent weeks committing to memory.

He knew that a roaming hand beneath the covers could quickly cup her sex, use two fingers to spread her slick lips and allow a third to explore her warmth. If he rubbed her in just the right way she'd begin panting, moaning his name, and eventually, she'd be coating his fingers in the nectar he loved to sample.

He knew that pulling her on top of him and grinding his hips up into her could her get her into the mood again. He'd massage her breasts, starting with his hands and finishing with his tongue as he'd slide inside of her and she'd begin to rock her hips at an increasing pace, quickly taking control and getting them both off while he watched her in awe.

He knew that she'd always come with his name spilling out of her, reminding him that this pleasure, this union, was just for the two of them and would never be shared in the same way with anyone else.

After a shower where Sam was lucky enough to be lectured more than once about wetting Mercedes' hair or allowing his hands to travel to places on her body she didn't need his help washing, he put on most of his clothes from the previous night as Mercedes donned a dress that made him want to never let her leave her room again. He waited for her to check the house, making sure her parents were gone, before allowing her to usher him down the stairs and to her car.

The drive was silent, except for the smacks emanating from the frequent kisses Sam placed to the little brown hand he held for the duration of the ride. It was her turn to rush from the car and he watched, amused, as she skipped around to the passenger door to open it for him and offer a polite hand to help him out. They kept their hands linked as they walked to the door and Mercedes stood on her tiptoes to give Sam a lingering kiss.

He leaned down as she pulled away, keeping their connection for just a little longer as she mumbled a quiet, "Thank you," against his lips.

"What did I do?" he asked, busying himself playing with the hair around her face.

"I didn't get to tell you last night. But I just wanted to say thank you for _everything_, for prom, and the video, and just for being you."

"I'm glad to do it, darlin'. Anything for you."

"Anything for you, too."

She left him with another deep kiss and a promise to call later. He held onto the warmth in his chest, not turning to enter the house that wasn't quite his own until he saw her car disappear around the corner. He pulled out his cell phone, already anxious for the "I made it home safely" call he never got to receive last night.

_**Right here, right now.**_

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed our second date. I had an amazing time and I want to see you again. Date #3 will include a trip to the carnival where we'll embrace our inner children, feasting on sweets, giggling on rides, and tossing quarters at the games in an effort to win you the biggest teddy bear known to man. If you have a good time, I'd like to officially be your gal. Let me know, reviews below.**


	16. Belligerent Bride

**Hi! I'll keep it short. I just want to say thank you to everyone for reading and leaving feedback, it is ALWAYS appreciated. For this one-shot I combined two prompt requests, one about some messy wedding planning and another about Sam getting a motorcycle. Enjoy!**

**_This one-shot features: Bridezilla! Mercedes, ain'tshit! Sam, smashed vases, Kurtcedes, airborne shoes, and ironic things like rain on your wedding day._**

* * *

"It's not my fault!" Mercedes screeched into her cell phone before slamming it down on the carpet below.

Kurt winced as he entered the room, feeling sorry for the little black device that had taken more than its fair share of abuse. He was quick to gather the phone form the plush floor beneath them, praying that Mercedes hadn't somehow further damaged the rug her heels were undoubtedly wearing holes into as she paced around his living room. "Sweetie," he began, taking a deep breath to gather the courage to approach the short, brown-skinned dragon before him, "What is it now?"

She narrowed her eyes, folding her arms she questioned, "What do you mean what is it, _now_?" Mercedes was already livid and the day was only half through. She wanted nothing more than just to call the entire wedding off and fly to Vegas with Sam the way her future husband suggested several times.

_"But that's not the way superstars get married," her agent advised._

_"What about me and your father? Are we just supposed to look at the pictures on tumblook or something? You have to share this big day with your family," her mother insisted._

_"If we get married in Vegas, I'm definitely dressing up as Elvis," Sam commented, killing the plan entirely._

Kurt remained calm, remembering the stress his best friend was under, "Just wondering what today's "issue" is, my love," he said softly, tucking her cell phone into the pocket of the blazer she wore, "Let me know so we can fix it and cut today's session of 'destroy my best friend's fabulous home' short."

Mercedes stepped back, her stance defensive and her tone rising, "Is this about the vase?"

Kurt sighed, tired, and ready to be finished with his wedding planner duties for the day. It had taken all of his patience to deal with his best friend for the last couple of months but Kurt just kept reminding himself that he was the one who insisted on planning the Jones-Evans wedding. Four months of tantrums, mix-ups, and difficulties later, Kurt was now regretting his decision. Possibly, some of the headache was his own fault. Perhaps, he could have coddled his best friend a little less and stopped insisting that she was right and that everything should go her way.

Mercedes was wrong today. It wasn't about the $2,000 vase the normally even-tempered woman shattered in a fit of cake-tasting related sobs. Kurt hated the damn multicolored thing Blaine brought home from a charity auction, seeing it as nothing more than an eyesore to his carefully planned décor, so if it happened to be the only casualty in one of Mercedes' fits, he wasn't sad about the loss.

It also wasn't about the fact that Mercedes had trudged down the block at four AM that morning, demanding that Kurt get out of his warm bed where he slept soundly next to his adoring, and incredibly patient, husband in order to show off her preliminary designs for yet another wedding dress.

It could have been about the tears that were reddening her chestnut eyes, her clenching fists or the scowl she wore as she silently scanned the room, looking for something else to take her frustrations out on.

"Mercedes, just tell me what is going on now so we can move on. And for the third time, would you please take off your shoes."

"My shoes?" She stepped further back, moving against the side table that held the antique telephone Kurt adored.

Kurt prayed she wouldn't throw it but knew that wasn't her intention when she braced herself on the table and lifted a leg to begin unstrapping one of the four inch heeled shoes she wore.

"You want my shoes, Kurt? You can have my damn shoes." Mercedes knew that maybe she wasn't handling the situation in the most mature of manners, but letting off a little steam seemed to be the only thing on her mind. She lifted the shoe threateningly, still debating whether or not she should launch it.

Kurt moved away this time, his eyes bulging as Mercedes shook her shoe at him, "Mercedes Marie Jones, don't you dare!" The shoe wouldn't be the first thing she had thrown at him, but it sure as hell would have been the largest. He didn't mind because Mercedes was an awful shot and with having a two-year-old daughter running around, Kurt had secretly become at expert at dodging projectiles.

"Everything okay in he-" Sam chimed, walking into the room and narrowly dodging the heel Mercedes missed hitting Kurt with. "Shit! Mercy, what did he do?"

"Me?!" Kurt was flabbergasted, shocked that his friend had tried to take him out in such an awful manner. He held his hands over his chest, gaping between the tall blond who was apparently foolish enough to marry the shoe-throwing so and so. "Me?" he repeated, "Not the crazy woman you're marrying? Not the one throwing the shoes? Me?"

"I'm sorry, Kurt. I'll take over." Sam offered a pat on the back and a weak smile before turning to Mercedes. "Baby, come here." She shook her head, her dark hair flying, "Mercedes, come over here."

Mercedes scoffed, willing herself not to walk right into the held out arms of the deeply voiced trap masquerading as her fiancé, "Who are you, my father?"

Ignoring the comment and knowing he'd get the best of her soon enough, Sam shrugged, "Fine, I'll come over there." It only took two large steps for him to be in front of her, hands going to her hips and fingers sliding through the belt loops in her jeans, and using the advantage to push her against the table behind her.

"Sam," Mercedes warned, knowing all too well what the smirk at the side of Sam's mouth and the glint in his eyes had in mind, "I don't have time for this right now."

Still paying her protests no attention, Sam dipped his head, nuzzling her hair out of the way to rumble against her neck, "Tell me what it is, tell Thor what's wrong so he can fix it."

"Thor?" Kurt derided, rolling his eyes at the couple he would admit was adorable if they weren't jumping on his very last nerve.

"Could we get a minute alone, Kurt?" Sam asked, his hands already beginning to drift down Mercedes' thick thighs as he pressed her further onto the table.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Kurt sighed before waving the soon-to-be newlyweds off, "Please just take it into the guest room you two." He knew how the conversation between the pair would end up. It ended in the same way the evening prior when Mercedes flew off the handle when the table cloths arrived and they were a few shades off from the very specific shade of lavender she ordered. Kurt didn't have to say a single word to the simmering bride to be before her future groom stepped in, throwing her over his shoulder and carting her off to their bedroom.

"Yes, Papa Kurt," Sam teased to his friend's retreating back. He was thankful for Kurt, glad that his stepping in meant that the groom wouldn't have to do much of the wedding planning. But as he looked down at his still pouting future wife, Sam considered his own job to be just as important. It was up to him to make sure that none of Mercedes friends would get the bright idea to murder her before their nuptials and to do that, he had to do whatever he could to keep his baby from pushing away the only people who wanted to see them walk down the aisle as badly as he did. "Come on," he said, looping a finger into her jeans again to pull her behind him as he began to walk away.

"Where?" Mercedes already knew where, but she halted her steps until he answered. What kind of wife would she become if she didn't at least pretend to put up a little fight?

Sam didn't bother to turn around as he simply replied, "Guest room," then continued to pull her in the exact direction.

"You know fucking isn't going to fix anything," Mercedes stated, doing her best to ignore the clenching in her core as Sam pulled her along.

"It'll make you feel better and that's my number one priority." Much to Sam's surprise, Mercedes didn't have anything else to say until they were locked in the guest room that had become like a second bedroom for the two of them. Having Kurt and Blaine living a few blocks away meant that Mercedes would often run to Kurt for wedding-related catastrophes large and small no matter the hour of the day. In the beginning, Sam would wait for her to return home, stroking himself in bed and trying to stay awake but after three nights of falling asleep with his hard-on in his own hands, Sam had gotten sick of his missing fiancé and would end up spending nights at the Hummel-Anderson home as often as Mercedes felt the need to do so. It wasn't so bad, there was always breakfast in the morning as well as the opportunity to spend quality time with one of his favorite nieces, and it was almost like staying at hotel, including the frequent requests for the two of them to "keep it down."

Mercedes couldn't say much through the heavy kisses Sam attacked her lips with. She wanted to resist him, to tell him that sex wasn't going to fix the floral situation or put together her wedding dress, but none of those sentences came together as he slipped off her jacket and worked on tugging her jeans down her thighs. He pulled her up without warning, lying her down on the bed before stealing her panties and dropping to his knees in front of her. Mercedes was almost nude, legs propped up on Sam's strong shoulders before she realized what was even happening. But she didn't stop him, couldn't stop him, as he began refreshing the dark mark on her inner thigh.

"So tell me what's wrong," he insisted between nibbles to her flesh. This was their routine and Sam loved every part of it. Step one, something would go wrong. Step two, Mercedes would get upset, probably throw something at anyone who happened to be in her line of fire. Step three, he'd step in, all night and shining armor, and carry her off to "calm her down." Admittedly, the last step was his favorite part, but step two was what always got him in the mood to carry out step three. There was something about seeing Mercedes all riled up that excited him, her skin would redden and she'd puff her cheeks out, her chest would heave as she huffed deep breaths through her nose, and he could watch her cute little fists ball up and her petite feet stomp for hours on end. Sam was glad that he was never on the receiving end of one of her fits, making sure he followed all of her wedding directions to the exact letter and didn't compound the stress she was already feeling.

Mercedes moaned as Sam inched his way to her center, finally releasing a held breath when he gave her a firm beginning lick, "We had to put together a new dress today," she uttered.

"Uh-huh," he mumbled, tasting her again in a long, deep swipe.

"And the uh - the ummm -"

"Tell Sammy all about it, baby." He kept his eyes on her as he brought his mouth to greet her clit, humming against the little button once he'd secured it between his lips.

"Oh! Fuck!" she hissed, beginning to grind her hips against the fingers Sam slipped inside of her, "Well, a new dresssssss means new shoesssss and, and, and-" the thought was quickly fading from her as she felt her orgasm already beginning to build in her abdomen.

"What else?" Sam asked, curving his fingers and slowing his strokes, urging her to talk more if she wanted to come.

"Ummhmmmm, the florist - the flowers, we might have to change the bouquets but if we do that we have to change the center pieces, and um, shitshitshit! Sammy!" It was his tongue she was riding now as her release poured from her, quickly caught by Sam's skilled mouth. Whatever was wrong was at the back of her mind as she felt the familiar post-orgasmic chill coming over her body.

Sam pulled away from her center with a final kiss to her glistening lower lips, standing up and crawling between her legs, "You have to stop letting yourself get so riled up, baby. You know I worry about you." He allowed Mercedes to lap the bits of her essence from around his lips while he grinded himself against her.

"I know, I just want everything to be perfect."

"It will be, just trust in Kurt, I know he's going to make everything amazing." She nodded, giving Sam a gentle push to roll him off of her. "Where are you going?" he asked, grabbing her before she could leave the bed.

"I think I need to apologize to Kurt."

"I'm not done with you yet, Mrs. Evans."

"And I'm not Mrs. Evans yet," she sassed.

"Well, we might as well practice." The comment produced a devious smile from his lover who returned to him eagerly, going after the hardened cock in his jeans that was hers to do with what she pleased for the rest of her life.

* * *

After freshening up and getting back into her clothes, Mercedes left a passed out Sam with a gentle kiss on his sleeping lips before she searched the house for her wedding planner. She found Kurt in the kitchen, dutifully chopping vegetables unaware of her presence until she snuck behind him wrapping around his waist, and apologizing into his stiffened back, "I'm sorry Kurtiekins."

"Humph. I'll bet you are. You'll be sorry up until the moment the next thing goes wrong and then I'll be dodging shoes like I'm at Payless on black Friday." Kurt had to stop himself from brandishing the knife he held. He didn't want to be angry with Mercedes but she wasn't going to be let off the hook with nothing more than a saccharin apology.

Mercedes pulled away, shrinking from Kurt's annoyed gaze when he turned to face her, "It was just that damn florist pissing me off again. You have to understand, Kurt. I don't think I'll be able to take it if anything else goes wrong. First, it was my dress-"

"That you decided to change the design for six times!" Kurt reminded her, setting down the knife for fear it'd go flying between them.

A little whine escaped Mercedes throat as she bemoaned, "Because I don't want to look like the Michelin Man on my wedding day. My baby bump will be sho-"

"Your what?!"

"Oh, no." She covered her mouth with her hand, her mind scrambling for an excuse and failing to come up with one to correct her slipped statement.

"Mercedes, are you pregnant?" Kurt asked, cornering her against the counter, his hands reaching tentatively toward her belly.

Mercedes groaned, knowing that the secret was out now, "Yeah. The first dresses we designed were all going to be too tight on my belly, I'm already starting to grow, Kurt."

"You're not getting married because-"

"No, we just found out. We apparently got a little carried away Grammy night after my win and everything. I'm only like a month and a half along but by the time May comes I think I'll actually be showing then."

Kurt's voice was already cracking as he gathered Mercedes into a tight hug, sure to not press too hard against her mid-section, "Mercy me, congratulations."

"You can't tell anyone. I want to wait until I'm further along before I tell the world."

Kurt ceremoniously zipped his lips and threw away the key, glad that the gesture brought a smile to his worried friend's face. "Your secret is safe with me, my love. Now what else do you need your magical wedding planner to do today?"

Mercedes tapped her chin in contemplation, deciding that she might as well allow Kurt to do his job. "The florist is being a dick, says that my arrangements can't be ready until a week after we need them."

"I'll take care of it. You know you need to be calmer, right? You can't go getting all worked up when you've got a little one inside of you."

"I know, I can't help it sometimes; everything is just piling up and my mood changes like crazy."

"Tell me about it. I'll call in some backup and you won't have to worry about a thing. Just be ready to sparkle on May 8th, okay?"

"Are you sure, Kurt? I know you said you wanted to plan it yourself but it's not too late to hire a wedding planner."

"Hush, I'm taking care of this. Now why don't you go lay down with Sam, I guess you two are invited to dinner tonight."

"Thank you, Kurtie."

"You are quite welcome, my dear, and I hope you remember my kindness on Lucille's second birthday. I already know my little diva is going to throw a fit about something. She gets that from you, you know?"

Mercedes giggled, secretly glad to have influenced her niece's mannerisms, "Stop. Of course, I'll be there. You know Auntie Mercy will do anything for her Lucy."

"And Uncle Kurtie can't wait to be there for the little Evans."

* * *

Somehow, through the grace of powers much higher than his own, Kurt made it to the big day. Mercedes looked beautiful in a flowing white gown that did well to hide her protruding midsection. His bestie looked like an angel and Kurt was proud of the job he'd done. It had taken several sleepless nights, a few shouting matches, and more threats than he would have normally passed out to the various vendors, but his job was finally in its last stages. He beamed at the bride, helping her mother place the veil atop her perfectly curled hair before stepping back to have one final look at his creation. Even with the addition of a hand cast, that Kurt had taken the time to cover in clear, shining, crystals the night before, Mercedes still looked stunning. He could already feel the tears prickling his eyes as he helped her into her heels and spun her around in the dressing room excitedly.

"How do I look?" Mercedes asked, already grinning but nervous about the day ahead. She just knew that something else was probably going to pop up, anything to keep her from having the flawless wedding day she always imagined. Just a few hours ago, as she sat in the emergency room with her entire bridal party close by, getting a small cast put around her hand after she'd somehow managed to drunkenly allow it to be slammed in the car door as they left the strip club for her last night out as a free woman, she thought she might have to call the whole thing off. Luckily, she was released from the hospital with a prescription and the cast that Kurt was able to make way less of an eyesore. Despite all the wedding fuck-ups that had occurred in the last few months, Mercedes was still happy that she made it, that in a few short hours, God willing, she would become Mrs. Evans. Before Kurt could answer her inquiry, Santana popped back into the dressing room, pulling a worried Tina behind her.

"Hey you guys, we might have a little problem," Tina sighed, grabbing the fabric of her impromptu gown. Santana had somehow managed to spill a deep red wine onto her bridesmaid dress the day before the wedding and unable to get it cleaned, Kurt and Mercedes found themselves in a dress shop at six AM trying to find a new dress that wouldn't clash with the others. Tina was kind enough to help in their search, getting a dress to match Santana's new one so it would appear as if the dresses didn't match on purpose.

"What is it?" Mercedes asked, still twirling in the mirror.

Tina and Santana argued over who would deliver the news, Santana losing when Tina pushed her forward. "Well," she began, doing her best to avoid the eyes of the bride and maid of honor, "it's kind of raining."

A surprised laugh left Mercedes throat as she turned to Kurt, "It's raining, Kurt. It is really raining. It is really fucking raining." She threw her hands up, stepping from the platform where she stood to begin the frantic pacing that always began whenever something else was poised to ruin her big day. Getting married outside in May seemed like it would go over well, they even checked the forecast daily just to make sure that they would be able to have the ceremony in the lavish church garden with two hundred of their closest friends and family. She wanted the venue so bad, remembering falling in love the first time she saw it but now there would be yet another wrench in her wedding day plans.

"Mercy, are you okay?" Kurt asked, moving cautiously toward her. "We'll take care of it, we just have to move everyone inside, we set everything up just in case, remember?"

She stopped when she remembered all of Kurt's well-laid contingency plans. He had a backup for everything, including three spare wedding dresses just in case Mercedes changed her mind during the big day. A deep breath allowed her to force a smile on her face as she dismissed her friends so they could help usher everyone inside for the ceremony.

* * *

Mercedes knew she couldn't have chosen better when it came to picking the man she would spend the rest of her life with. Sam was known to fuck a thing or two up but she never imagined that he would forget the vows he had written for their big day. A brief flash of panic colored his face but he quickly brushed it off, grabbing her hands and speaking to her from his heart, making her promises that had her tears before he was even half way through. They were chastised when she pulled Sam into a deep kiss after his speech but they quickly remembered where they were and finished the ceremony without further incident. The rain even cleared up in time for several beautiful photos in the dewy garden with the slightest hint of a rainbow serving as their background.

Kurt was relieved that the day seemed to be finally turning around for the new couple. Though others were worried when the bride and groom took a little longer to reach the reception venue than anticipated, Kurt as well as Mike, who had the duty of serving as best man, knew that there was only one reason why Mr. and Mrs. Evans hadn't made it to party yet. That reason surely involved the possessive smack Sam placed to Mercedes' ass and the words he leaned down to murmur into her ear as he corralled her and her dress into the black stretch limo escorting them to the venue.

When the two finally did arrive, it was to a standing, cheering crowd of the people who loved them most. After sharing their first dance, greeting many of the guests, and posing for more pictures the two were finally able to sit down as dinner was served. Sam sat with an arm wrapped around his wife, snuggling into her neck and whispering how much he enjoyed their limo ride. She returned his whispers and allowed them to be accompanied with a small hand drifting up his inner thigh to massage his cock through his slacks. Sam moaned against her, attempting to figure out how early one could leave their own wedding reception and not seem rude.

Mercedes began to shake her head vehemently, abruptly stopping the stroking of the man she loved to leer at the plate placed in front of her, "I specifically asked them for chicken, Sam. I'm supposed to have chicken. I can't have fish."

Sam nodded, well aware that she decided to remove several things from her diet because of her current condition. "I'll trade you," he suggested.

With a huff, she pushed the offending plate away. She had specifically asked for the chicken dish, hell, she would have settled for the vegetarian dish or Rachel's specially ordered vegan dish, anything but the roasted halibut in front of her. "If you have fish then I'm not kissing you," she declared, growing more pissed at the mistake. The caterers had managed to keep her monogrammed champagne flute filled with apple cider but somehow they had gotten her dinner wrong. She blew out a thick breath, trying to pull away as Sam wrapped around her, kissing her cheek.

"Then we won't eat," Sam proposed casually, "We can just fill up on cake and champagne."

"I can't have champagne, thanks to you."

"Hey, it was your fault too. Just eat around the fish; I'll go find the caterer."

"I don't want anything on this plate that has been near that damn fish. I guess the bride is just supposed to starve."

Sam could only shake his head at his overly dramatic wife. He was hard from the strokes she discreetly offered him under the table and he quickly decided that he might as well try to remedy the situation by doing something that would soothe the both of them. Pushing up from his seat, he offered Mercedes a hand up as well, "Come on," he urged. When she didn't comply, Sam reached down and lifted her from her chair, smiling at the surprised glances from their guests as he carried her from the ballroom.

"Where are you taking me? We're in the middle of dinner, Sam."

"I can't eat if you're not eating, so we're not in the middle of dinner. We're excusing ourselves because you need some air."

"Air my ass," Mercedes remarked curtly as Sam walked them into a nearby room. He flicked on a light to reveal a storage closet that held extra chairs and a few folded up tables. Before Mercedes could argue, Sam's body was looming over hers, rubbing himself against her, allowing her to feel his hardened cock through the fabric of her dress.

"This is a bad idea," she mumbled, helping him pull up the skirt of her gown and wrapping a hand around his neck to bring his lips to hers in a heated kiss.

"And there are plenty more where this one came from." Sam smirked, gliding across her exposed center with his cock. His wife wasn't wearing panties, well she was, but he had confiscated them in the limo ride over and the lacy white undergarment was now tucked firmly into the pocket of his suit jacket. "I love you Mrs. Evans," he rasped against her lips, gripping her thighs as he started to push himself into her slick folds.

Mercedes tried to return the statement but was cut off when she felt Sam inside of her, filling her in one fast stroke. She locked her ankles around his back, ignoring the shoe that fell from her foot or the layers of clothing between them. All that mattered where her lips pressed to his and the opportunity to moan all of her frustrations into his mouth as he pushed in and out of her, helping to angle her hips upward so he could tap against her spot.

Fucking Mercedes was already an activity that Sam enjoyed the hell out of of but he never imagined how much better the sex would be now that he could call her his wife. The added bonus of their first-born brewing in her belly didn't hurt either. Everything about her turned him on, almost too much and he was forced to weave a hand through her dress to find her clit and rub on the little nub until she began to clench around him, pulling her lips into her mouth to muffle her screams and tugging at his hair as she came. He shook his head, drawing her lips from her mouth along with the screams swirling at the back of her throat. It was the deep, soulful moans of pleasure that did him in, that had his hips jerking and the spurts of cum that left him filling her and leaking down between their joined bodies.

"Fuck, baby, I love your bad ideas so much," Mercedes confessed, taking Sam's swelling lips with her own reddened pair as he eased her back to her feet, holding her up and not allowing her trembling legs to leave her collapsed on the ground.

A few minutes in the bathroom was enough for both of them to clean up and return to the party that was now in full swing. Mercedes was pulled to the dance floor by a clearly inebriated Quinn and Sam was tugged along by Kurt who complained that the maid of honor should have the opportunity to dance with the groom.

Though they hadn't intended to stay as long as they did, the newlyweds ended up being amongst the last groups of people to leave the party. Mercedes waited outside, saying her goodbyes to her parents, leftover friends and the few stragglers that had decided to follow the bunch outside. She didn't know where Sam had disappeared off to, but the loud roar of a motorcycle and an exaggerative cheer from Puck revealed her husband's presence.

"Mercedes," Kurt began as he watched Sam ride to the curb and come to a stop, removing his helmet and waving his wife over to him. Sam had mentioned the motorcycle, going into great detail to describe the black and chrome monster to Kurt but he thought that there was no way in hell Sam would be crazy enough to actually spring it on Mercedes on their wedding day.

She exhaled, a serene smile on her face, she claimed, "I'm calm. I am totally and completely calm."

"Are you sure?" Quinn asked, coming to Mercedes' other side to run a soothing hand up and down her back.

"Yep. Now if you'll excuse me for just one moment while I go over there and fucking kill him," With Quinn's help, Kurt was able to keep Mercedes planted in her spot but he wasn't able to stop the cloud of angry phrases she hurled in Sam's direction. "What is wrong with him?" she screeched, her voice almost gone from the excitement and stress of the day.

"We will let you go, Mercy. But please, I beg of you, do not throw anything at the man."

A few more deep breaths and Mercedes felt ready to not strangle her husband on the spot. With a calm smile, she was released from her hold and walked the short distance to a grinning Sam who stood presenting his newest purchase to her.

"Where is the limo? I'm ready to go," she said, trying to ignore the bike completely.

"I sent it away. We're going to ride this to the hotel. I thought it would be cool."

"Hell to the no! Sam, I am not getting on that deathtrap!"

"Don't you trust me? The hotel isn't that far from here, babe."

"Sam, this is really dangerous, considering…" Mercedes looked around to the onlookers observing their exchange. The important people in the crowd already knew about her pregnancy but it was none of the business of the valet, photographer, or the paparazzi cameras whose flashes illuminated the bushes surrounding the venue. This wasn't the way she wanted to announce her pregnancy to everyone else so she decided to cut her sentence short. She tried to calm herself, knowing that if she got too mad, she would probably let the news slip and ruin the surprise for the second time.

Sam sighed, wrapping an arm around her and kissing her softly, "I know but I wouldn't be on it if I didn't know what I was doing. Do you trust me?"

She nodded the obvious answer, "Yeah."

"And you know I'll always keep you safe, right? Both of you." He handed her the purple helmet he held in his hand, allowing a wide grin to overtake his face when she took it from him.

"This helmet is going to ruin my hair," she grumbled, fighting away the smile tugging at her lips.

"I planned on ruining it when it when we got to the hotel anyway. Now get your sexy ass on here, Mrs. Evans." He helped her onto the back of the bike, patting her head once she'd secured her helmet and putting on his own before hopping onto the seat in front of her, starting up his beast, and relaxing in the tight embrace his wife pulled him into.

* * *

**How was date #3? If you had fun then I have good news for you, my dear, I'm all yours if you'll have me. I think we make a cute couple, how about you? Let me know, reviews below. **


	17. Storm's A Comin'

**Another tumblr request because my inbox over there is overflowing. Enjoy!**

**_This one-shot features: Married Samcedes, costumes, catsuits, pirates, clowns, and lions, oh my!_**

* * *

"It wasn't even that funny, but everyone wouldn't stop laughing about it. I swear that guy irks the shit out me, he just thinks he's God's gift to office comedy or something," Sam complained, stealing a chip from the handful Mike munched on and tossing it into his mouth. His best friend and girlfriend had decided to dress as hobo clowns and Sam had to appreciate his dedication to the theme as Mike avoided the plump red nose he wore to stuff his face with appetizers.

Mike nodded, sharing in Sam's lamentation, "I work with a dude like that. He's a prick but - uhhhhhh - daaaaamn."

Sam quirked an eyebrow at his friend's suddenly slackened jaw. "What?" he asked, waving a hand in front of Mike's frozen face. Mike didn't respond, his eyes stayed trained on something across the room. Sam turned around, following Mike's line of sight to see the small crowd that had gathered near the door. He could see clearly through his Captain America mask but whomever his friends had suddenly crowded around was too short to be seen through the throng of people.

"Who is it?" Sam asked, standing on his tip toes for a better view and still unable to see who was the new center of attention the annual Klaine event.

"I wish you all the luck in the world, man," Mike commented wistfully with a shake of his head and a pat to Sam's back before walking toward the crowd. Sam stayed on his heels, coming to stand behind Mike who wrapped an arm around a multi-colored wig wearing Tina, he was finally able to make out the white wig that gave away who had caused such a stir at the party.

"Shit, woman, look at you!" Santana commented, raising the eye mask of her lioness costume to get a better look. "You're coming home with me tonight if Britts is cool with it."

Brittany nodded shaking the high ponytail she wore to compliment her genie outfit, "We can definitely take her home. I know we've always wanted to."

"Sorry," Puck chimed in, brandishing the sword from his grungy pirate outfit, "Lauren and I have first dibs on that ass, right babe?"

Lauren agreed, wrapping an arm around her fiance, cloaking his shoulders in the crimson little red riding hood cape she wore, "We're hittin' that tonight!"

"I hate to disappoint y'all but Storm is spoken for," Mercedes commented, making her way out of the crowd to embrace a still shocked Sam. He pulled back from the hug, immediately beginning to rake his eyes up and down his wife.

She made a stunning Storm with her thick form encased snugly in a black, soft leather cat suit. A gold belt and shoulder accents accentuated the suit that she paired with a pair of black knee-high boots. Sam had picked out her costume, even checked it over before he left for work this morning and showed her pictures of how it should look. Mercedes had an event to attend for her record company so he knew she would be late but he wished he hadn't taken her suggestion of coming to the party without her. He could have stopped the current rush of blood going to his midsection if he had gotten to see her in the outfit earlier. The costume looked much different lying on their bed. It was innocent there, just an empty suit that he knew his wife would look great in but fuck, seeing it stretched across her body was downright sinful. He felt the need for prayer as he looked at her, unable to pry his eyes away from the zipper struggling to contain her breasts.

"Hey Cap!" she cooed, planting a soft kiss on his lips.

"Baby, no," was all he could utter.

"What? Don't you like it." She stepped back, looking down at herself and smoothing her hands over her suit. Sam groaned at the action, watching her hands glide over her curves.

His mouth was dry but Sam managed to choke out, "I love it, but that's not the problem. Everyone else seems to like it too. A little too much for my taste."

"It's just a costume, Sam and if I remember correctly, one that was your idea."

"In retrospect, it was a dumb idea," he deadpanned. "Maybe you should put a jacket on."

"It won't cover those beautiful boobies!" Blaine chimed in, tipping his cowboy hat for emphasis as he walked by.

Mercedes swatted away Blaine's words with a playful pat to his bum before turning back to Sam, "We're amongst friends, baby. Besides, don't tell me you think somebody is going to steal me away."

"Of course not, I just don't appreciate the stares is all."

She fluttered her eyelashes, moving closer and pushing herself against him. Her voice temptingly low she said, "Right. And you think I'm fine with letting you walk around in this fucking suit you've got on, muscles bulging and trying to give me a damn heart attack. If anybody has something to be worried about it's me. The real Captain American ain't got shit on you, baby."

Sam snaked a hand around her waist, drawing her lips to his, "You are going to drive me crazy tonight, woman."

"I promise you'll be okay," she insisted with a lingering kiss and tentative lick to his pink lips.

Sam was okay for most of the night until the point where everyone's alcohol seemed to kick in and things were getting a little wild. He was buzzed himself and he knew that Mercedes had thrown back enough shots to be much looser than normal. Much looser than Sam wanted her to be as he watched Blaine licking a spot of salt from her breasts as he took one of the shots Kurt - dressed as Julius Caesar for the night - served on a silver tray.

Pushing up, Sam was almost out of his chair before a hand on the shoulder guided him back down. He looked up to see Santana with a wide smirk on her face.

"Go easy on her, Sam. She's just having fun," she insisted, slapping Sam with her soft tail.

Sam couldn't fight the grimace twisting his lips as he watched Finn practically carrying Mercedes to the dance floor. "Too much fun if you ask me."

Santana shrugged, downing the last of her drink, "Can you blame her? She doesn't get out often seeing as a certain husband of hers keeps her in their bedroom all day. I'm surprised you let her out tonight."

He ignored the comment, but as he watched Finn, dressed appropriately as Frankenstein, arhythmically grinding against his wife he couldn't fight pushing out of his chair again. "Don't you think things are getting a little out of hand?" he asked as Santana pulled him from storming to the dance floor.

"When did you become the wet blanket, Trouty? You sound like my abuela. I think you need more shots, let's go."

Sam conceded, following behind her to the fully stocked bar Rachel stood behind carefully pouring over various concoctions in her bride of Frankenstein outfit. Thinking for a second, she began to mix several bottles into a silver shaker before offering Sam and Santana two very blue shots and dark red drinks to chase them with.

Santana coaxed him into a few more shots, allowing him to begin enjoying the party. He and Mike kicked ass in a few games of beer pong and he and Puck belted out a less than perfect cover of "Don't Stop Believin'" on the karaoke machine. Sam was even giddy enough to participate in a rigged game of apple bobbing where Artie, the adorably dressed boy scout, became the reigning champ.

Everything was fine until he went to the bathroom, exiting to find Mercedes in the hallway with Wonder Woman hovering over her. The heroine had her hand fitted snugly on the curve of Mercedes' hip, gliding dangerously close to her ass as she leaned in closer than was probably necessary to carry on their conversation.

"Quinn," Sam uttered, tapping her lightly on the shoulder. The two of them had had this conversation before and Sam was in no mood to lecture Quinn about trying to steal his wife away tonight.

Sam couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or not but he could have sworn that Quinn rolled her eyes. At the very least, she seemed somewhat annoyed with his presence. "Is there something I can do for you, Sam?" she asked, her grip on Mercedes tightening.

"I was just hoping that I could speak to my wife for a minute."

With a light huff she obliged, "Help yourself. Cedes, don't forget what I said about Wonder Woman and Storm teaming up. We'd make a great team." Mercedes giggled away the comment, waving to Quinn who sauntered down the hall after one final sneer in Sam's direction.

"Mercy, can I talk to you for a moment?" Sam asked, already beginning to pull her into a nearby bedroom.

"Sure thing, babe. Everything okay?" Mercedes seemed genuinely concerned, despite her state, and Sam almost felt bad for making her worry.

He waited until he could close and lock the door behind them before answering, "Since when did you start flirting with Quinn?"

"Sam, it doesn't mean anything; Quinn knows I'm just messing around."

"I don't know if she does," he muttered, folding his arms in protest.

She tugged his arms down, running her hands down them until she held his hands in hers and offered a comforting squeeze. "What is wrong with you tonight? Every time someone gets near me you're giving out dirty looks. We're here to have fun, babe."

"I'm trying to but it's hard when everyone has their damn hands all over you."

"Since when aren't our friends allowed to touch me?" Mercedes withdrew her hands, bringing them to rest on her hips. Sam knew he was probably in trouble but he didn't care seeing as his wife had thoroughly distracted him with her current pose.

"They shouldn't be touching you like that," he mumbled, his eyes roaming from her face.

"Oh, I'm sorry I didn't realize I had 'Property of Sam Evans' branded on my ass." She punctuated the statement with a slap to her firm behind obviously not noticing Sam's frustrated grunt.

He huffed, sliding a hand down his face, "You don't, I just - God, Mercy do you see how you look tonight?"

Her eyes narrowed, and Sam could literally see the realization hitting her as her features softened and a smug smile curved her formerly pursed lips. "Samuel Evans, you are jealous," she insisted, walking closer until she was pressed against him.

"I didn't say that," he said avoiding her stare. If he looked into those big brown eyes of hers he'd melt, he'd admit that she was right and that was not part of his agenda.

"You don't need to say it, Cap', Storm knows," she bit her lip as she trailed a finger down his chest. "You're jealous because I'm killing it in this suit and everybody's been getting to enjoy it but you." The pokes she applied to his chest with her last words combined with a hand roaming up his inner thigh crumbled his resolve. He looked into those eyes. They were soft and lidded and Sam knew it was time to give up whatever little fight he had insisted on starting.

"I didn't say I was jealous," he grumbled, wrapping an arm around her and finally palming the ass that had been just out of his reach the entire night while using his other hand to tug at the zipper that had been begging to be put out of its misery.

Mercedes didn't stop him, only watched as her breasts, in a black lace bra, spilled from the opening in her suit. "I thought we were arguing," she commented as Sam began to peel the suit off her shoulders.

"I don't wanna argue," he stated, leaning over to kiss her newly bared skin.

Mercedes moaned as Sam began to knead her breasts with his large hands, "If I take this catsuit off I won't be putting it back on."

Pulling down her bra cup Sam commented, "I don't expect you to."

They didn't bother with the queen-sized bed in one of Blaine and Kurt's beautifully decorated spare bedrooms. The floor proved to be good enough as Sam dropped to his knees, pulling Mercedes' outfit down as he went until the black fabric pooled around her ankles. He helped her out of it before snatching her thin panties from her body and immediately bringing his mouth to the area once covered in lace.

The mask stayed on as he lapped her hungrily, only stopping after her cum was dripping down his chin. In addition, the flowing white wig didn't move even though it tickled Sam's abdomen as Mercedes bobbed her head over his cock. The damn thing was on tight, a point further proven as Sam slammed into his wife from behind and pulled on the wig to bring her back to rest on his chest.

"You like that, Storm?" he asked, slowing his strokes so she could answer. His knees were burning from scraping against the rug beneath him but the pain paled in comparison to the pleasure he felt as he pumped leisurely in and out of her warmth.

Mercedes nodded, covering the hand Sam massaged her breasts with, she moaned, "Yessss, Cap, I love it."

Sam picked up his pace again and the only further sounds to come out of either of their mouths were various grunts, groans, and moans as their climaxes coursed through their bodies. They were each a little bruised, sore, and exhausted as Sam pulled Mercedes close and wrapped the two of them in a nearby throw. His hands still found new places to touch on her soft body as she snuggled into him. With a kiss goodnight, it wasn't long before Mercedes was snoring quietly against his chest.

Sam was almost conked out as well but he heard the three light taps on the door followed by Kurt's unmistakable voice. After the jiggling of the doorknob, Sam could hear a loud huff as he said, "Mr. and Mrs. Evans, so you know, I am not in the mood to steam clean that entire room so please don't fuck it up like you did the last time!"

Glancing at a nearby clock, Sam couldn't make that promise. It was only slightly after midnight and in a few minutes, he would probably be back inside of his wife, focusing on drawing out the moans of his name that served as a fitting reminder that she was his and his only. Kurt's requested only served to remind him that there were various places in the room that he wanted to bend Mercedes over and put into motion his plan to fuck her against every single one.

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**There were only three reviews on the last one so I guess you guys aren't ready to take it to the next level with me (or that last one-shot was just super bad). We can slow down the pace if you'd like. How are you feeling about us? Let me know, reviews below. **


	18. Affirmations Cuddlefuck

**So, a smuttier version of my "Wanky Wakey" one-shot was requested (Chapter 11, I believe) and I came up with this. I think I have one or two more to post from tumblr and after that, all following one-shots should be posted here the same day they are posted over there. **

**_This one-shot features: Cuddles, Sam's roaming hands, lies, sleepy Mercedes, and sacrifices. _**

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She could hear the footsteps, the familiar patter of his socked feet ambling down the hall with the promise of disturbing her sleep. Seeing as he was deep in a phone conversation when she walked in, she had hoped a simple kiss 'Hello,' would suffice until it was time for dinner. It wasn't often that she was able to make it to their bedroom without him leading her there or without him on her heels as they walked in the same direction. When she slipped off her shoes and fell into bed, she anticipated that it would be at least a couple of minutes and she could be well on her way to dream land before Sam got the urge to follow her. Maybe she should have napped on the couch, not that it would have stopped him from blessing her with his favorite type of greeting but maybe it wouldn't have enticed him as much as the bed. She thought about getting up but closed her eyes a little tighter as she heard him coming closer, hoping that his arrival wouldn't mean an end to the half hour of rest she planned on having.

She should have known better.

Feeling the bed dip, she refused to move, refused to rustle, until his arm wrapped around her middle and his full lips pressed to her ear. "Baaaaby," he cooed in that dangerously deep tone of his, "You 'wake?"

"No," she mumbled, complimenting the words with a shake of her head to put some space between them.

He walked his fingers up her belly, stopping at the dip beneath her breasts and running a finger along the bottom curve of one. "Well I think you should get up."

"Why, Sam?"

"I need you." She tried to pretend that the words didn't cause an involuntary clench of her thighs or that his hand grazing her nipple through her shirt as he brought it to turn her face to his hadn't caused the familiar tingling of a stiffening nub.

"Just order pizza," she moaned, doing her best to lean away from his touch only to be met with his firm chest pressed to her back.

"I don't need you for dinner, babe. That's all taken care of," he commented, his voice laced with pride.

Her eyes snapped open, searching his face for any indication of the joke he was surely making, "What did you do?"

He shrugged, "I cooked."

"And the kitchen is-"

"In one piece, and uncharred. Have a little faith in your boo." He brought his lips to hers in a soft peck. An innocent enough action if it weren't accompanied by the thumb diligently stroking her nipple.

"As soon as the fire department does," she mocked, recalling Sam's last foray into dinner preparation.

"That was one time."

"That's all it takes for me to never trust you around an open flame again." With a playful bop to his scrunched nose, she turned over to lie on her stomach, effectively moving out of Sam's grasp. He didn't move from the bed and that fact or the silence that enveloped the room should have been a dead giveaway that he wasn't giving up on his original plan. He was probably deep in thought, trying to figure the best way to get a hand on any of the parts of her that made her moan just right while she was in her current position.

A few minutes went by before Sam broke the silence, yanking her away from the sleep she was so close to getting. "Mercy?"

She didn't move as she responded, "Sleeping."

"I think you should wake up."

"I think I'm going to finish my nap. I just need 30 minutes. Why don't you nap with me, sweetheart?" She filled her voice with the saccharine sweetness that she knew was hard for Sam to ignore.

He sighed, momentarily defeated, "I guess I could do that."

An inaudible "Yes!" was all the celebration she allowed herself as Sam settled beside her, flipping, and rocking the bed until he was in a comfortable position. She exhaled deeply, finally content until her brief celebration was stopped by Sam's hand roaming to palm her ass.

"What are you doing?" she asked, turning her face and opening her eyes to see a bright green stare coupled with a mischievous smile.

"Just trying to get comfortable."

"Why don't you try a pillow?" she suggested with a smirk, forcing herself not to laugh at the look of mock-surprise on his face.

"You mean to tell me that soft thing down there isn't my pillow?" he inquired with a squeeze to the soft thing in question.

"That is not your pillow, Sam and you know it."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

She earned another little victory as he moved his hand upward, opting to wrap an arm around her waist and snuggling close to her. The victory lasted all of two minutes before what was probably a purposeful thrust caused her to feel one of her favorite body parts of his poking her side.

"What's that?" She didn't bother to open her eyes; if she kept them closed, she could still win. That nap would be hers even if she had to ignore the throbbing between her legs that began the moment Sam slid into bed beside her.

"Hairbrush?"

"Sam," she warned.

"Ruler?"

"There isn't a ruler on Earth that thick."

"My dick."

She wanted to giggle at his adorable bluntness, knowing too well that the words were probably accompanied by a deep blush that she didn't want to look at. With a sigh and a roll of her opening eyes, she looked to him, allowing herself a small smile as she asked, "What am I supposed to do with you, Sam Evans?" She turned onto her back to look at him. Yup, the blush was still there, still coloring his cheeks around his smugly smiling lips and still as much of a turn on as it always had been.

"I could think of a few things."

"Well," she began, tossing her hair over her shoulder and moving to unbutton his jeans, "Let's check some of them off the list."

"What are you doing, Mercy?" he asked, his grin widening as she fished his stiff cock out of its denim container and began to stroke it calmly.

"Putting you to sleep."

There are certain sacrifices that one must make in a relationship. For someone like Mercedes who works all day and is always happy to spend an evening with her sweet sex god of a boyfriend, naps are a rare thing. She loves her sleep, adores it even, dwells on the dreams and contemplates the nightmares, the former of which are often too brief for her liking. But she gives up her sleep, willingly. Trading it in for a perspiring brow, marked skin, and constant affirmation of the love she's sure will be hers for the rest of her life.

She wants to reaffirm the love now, to tell Sam that though he is a constant disruptor to the sleep her body needs, she loves him nonetheless, possibly more so because of his unyielding desire for her and readiness to express it. But her mouth is full, currently wrapped around his cock as he does enough talking for the two of them. She's sure he isn't forming actual sentences but the garbled words still mean something to her trained ears.

His legs begin to tremble, he tightens the grip he holds on her hair, and she knows that he is close. Quickly, she decides not to let him come, popping his dripping cock from her mouth and lapping lightly at the head of it. He'll have to earn it if he wants it tonight, the same way she's earning the nap she knows she deserves. Flipping her onto her back and proving himself the quick-witted man she knows he is, he wastes no time in removing her shirt and bra, quickly bringing his mouth and fingers to cover the areas previously encased in fabric.

A couple of seconds is all it takes for her body to respond to his touch, her nipples harden, her voice squeaks out of her in desperate moans, and her hips push up to meet the solid form scraping against the fabric of her thin leggings. It's no secret that she wants him; she always protests just a little, never wanting to make it too easy for him. But she betrays herself time and time again, for the umpteenth time today as he slides her pants from her body and grins as he moves to press his nose to her soaked center, nuzzling her clit and kissing the panties she wishes he would just rip off already.

He must have read her mind, seeing as the blue garment swiftly finds a home on the floor next to her shirt. With a warning kiss to her thigh, to the purple mark she knows is still there, he moves his mouth to her core, starting with a loving laving of her clit while a single finger finds its way into her warmth. As she always does, she asks for another finger and finally a third as she rides his hand to near completion.

She tries to stop it but she knows he feels it, knows that her breath has quickened, her legs are shaking, and that her walls are constricting around his long deft fingers. More than anything else, the ball of tension in her stomach tells her that she's close, that she'll begin seeing stars soon and becoming powerless against the quake of her body. She wants to curse when he stops, withdrawing his digits and slipping them into his mouth as he strokes his formerly unattended to hardness, but she knew it was coming. She also anticipates the deep kiss to her lips, mixing their tastes, and his reach into the bedside table for a condom.

Try as she may, she can never anticipate the feeling of his thick cock burrowing its way into her. She figures that she should be used to it by now but she can't help the fact that she winces when only the tip of him has pushed in. But she knows that soon she will be filled, somewhat shocked, yet satisfied, and after a moment to breathe, he will be dipping in and out of her and she will be begging for more.

Not once has she been wrong about that part. The calls of his name that can't be returned as he fills his mouth with one of her breasts echo in their bedroom bouncing from the off-white walls and back to her ears. She can hear it in her voice, the shrill cries that will leave her hoarse tomorrow, just how badly she wants all of this, wants all of him. Seizing the opportunity, she takes the time to moan out the phrases she hadn't gotten to since the night before, her affirmations

First, she tells him she's coming.

Second, pulling his face to her and taking his lips, she tells him she loves him.

Third, she nips his bottom lip, tugging at the flesh and demands through clenched teeth that he doesn't stop.

He doesn't. And seconds later, he is collapsed on top of her heaving chest in a pile of their hard-earned sweat. She pulls him closer, wrapping her legs tighter around him and asking that he stay.

He obliges, kissing her again, quickly running short of breath and separating with a lingering peck before snuggling into the curve of her neck.

"Thirty minutes, right?" he asks, his voice vibrating against her skin.

"Mmmmhmmmm," is all the reply she can muster as she succumbs to her heavy lids and the deep breaths enticing her to rest.

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**So, I take it you all like what I'm doing here and I appreciate that wholeheartedly. I've gotten a couple of marriage proposals but sadly, polygamy isn't legal here. However, I don't think there are laws against me having a harem and getting to love all of you wonderful people equally. If you'd like to join it, let me know, reviews below. (I won't stop saying that, I'm trademarking it, lol)**


	19. Romancing the Nerd

**Before I start my usual babbling, I'm just going to confess that this one-shot is LONG.**

**Anyway, you all know the rest, tumblr request, thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy, excuse the mistakes, yada yada yada. **

**_This one-shot features: High school Samcedes, nerd! Mercedes, trigonometry, a slight Scrubs reference *if you find it, we're eloping*, and a lovely classroom fuck._  
**

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He was watching her again. The only time the whiteboard at the front of the room held his attention was when she was there. The lackluster Trigonometry lessons did nothing for him but as he watched her ass performing the most tempting jiggle as she resolved the problem she insisted their teacher had gotten wrong, he couldn't keep his eyes away from it. Hell, he couldn't keep his eyes away from her since the first day she walked into class.

Being in that particular room was hard for Sam. The class was Advanced Placement and though he could get through the material, there was a certain young lady who made it almost impossible for him to concentrate. He sat in the back and it was easy to hide his reaction to whatever she was doing, saying, or wearing that turned him on on any given day. It wasn't hard to pretend like he had no interest in her, like her annoyed scoffs at their classmates' wrong answers or the way her mahogany skin reddened slightly with every compliment to her academic prowess didn't turn him on. In short, _she_ turned him on and he had been waiting months for an opportunity to express just how much he wanted her. However, the classroom wasn't exactly the ideal place for such confessions and because the two of them were both very involved teens who didn't seem to have any after school activities in common, he had to keep to himself.

But she was also in his English class.

And his science class.

Both of which he had the pleasure of somehow managing to sit behind her thanks to their teacher's asinine first name, alphabetical seating charts. So many times, he wanted to compliment the flowery perfume she wore or sweep the long dark strands of hair away from her eyes as she leaned over her desk, always in deep concentration. But he didn't want to creep her out, so he was stuck zoning out in another class wishing the girl who was miles away from him on the popularity chart wasn't so intimidating and so damn sexy.

Too many times he had to leave class because of an incredibly uncomfortable tightening in his pants that only got worse the more he thought about her. About her little hands, purple painted nails scraping his back, her thick thighs wrapping around him as he dove into her probably soaking wet core. And what if she were to ride him, or let him fuck her from behind? Those were the kind of thoughts that had Sam excusing himself in the middle of a lecture and even once during a test that he never got the opportunity to finish. He couldn't reign in his thoughts when it came to Mercedes and he had barely said two words to the girl in the time he'd known her.

"In conclusion," she announced, bringing Sam out of his daydreams, and redrawing the attention of the quiet class, "The only obvious answer is 4."

A sardonic slow clap was their teacher's first response followed by a slightly annoyed, "Once again, Miss Jones, you are correct. Thank you for pointing out my mistake, yet again." He gestured for her to move back to her seat, which she did after a terse smile. Sam tried not to watch the sway of her hips as she walked down the aisle between the desks or imagine fucking her senseless, knocking her black, thick-rimmed glasses askew.

"For the rest of the class," their frustrated teacher continued, "Everyone partner up and begin studying for next week's test."

"Partner? Hello! Earth to Sam!"

Sam turned to face his best friend that had been trying to get his attention for the last couple of minutes. Sam was too busy watching Mercedes, seated in the front of the room, pulling her hair back into a loose ponytail before burying her nose in her textbook. Pulling his eyes away, he turned to look at his mohawk-wearing friend and asked, "Huh? What's up?"

"I said, do you wanna partner up?"

Sam's eyes drifted toward Mercedes again, toward the pencil tapping against her plump lips that he was instantly jealous of, "Nah, man. I'm going to try someone else. I actually need to do well on this test."

"What's the big deal? Another 'C' to hang on the fridge, right?" Puck put his hand up for a high five that Sam reluctantly returned with a shake of his head.

"Puck, I need to do better than that if I want to keep being quarterback. I think I'm going to try and partner with Mercedes."

Puck turned to the front of the room, scoffing when he spotted the busy young woman, "I don't think she wants a partner."

"Well, that's her problem, not mine." Sam began to gather his things as he watched the rest of his classmates quickly finding pairs to work in.

"I'd steer clear of the blerd if I were you," Puck continued, causing Sam to pause his actions, "Word on the street is she's a bitch."

"I'm ignoring the bitch part, but blerd?"

He shrugged, gesturing toward Mercedes, "Black nerd."

"Right. I should probably see if I can partner with her in English class as well because I'm starting to see why my grades aren't up to snuff."

"Hey, they don't stick just anybody in Advanced Placement classes; I'm smart. Just try and keep your eyes off her backside, dude."

"Seriously? It's not like that," Sam lied, "I'm just trying to get a good grade."

"I know you bro, you want a piece of the blerd. It was obvious when you were entranced by her ass when she walked up to the board. And yeah, I just used the word entranced."

Sam chuckled, shaking his head as he said, "I know you're a genius dude but I have to do better on this test. I'll see you at practice." Sam waved a quick goodbye to Puck as got up and made his way to Mercedes. Her head was down and as he towered over her, she didn't seem to notice him. He cleared his throat as he moved to stand in front of her desk but the action failed to garner her attention. "Mercedes?" he uttered, waving a hand between her and the papers she was so engrossed in.

"Yes?" She didn't even bother to spare him so much as a glance as she flipped to the next page in her textbook.

He continued, undeterred, "I see you don't have a partner-"

Popping the cap on a bright orange highlighter she commented, "That's because I don't need a partner."

"Would you like to be my partner?"

"I said I don't need one. You can leave now; I think we're done talking." Sam had to smile as she actually shooed him away. He wanted to continue to pester her until she gave in, and he intended to do so. If she would just look at him, he could flash his winning smile and wink at her with his sparkling green eyes and she'd melt in a minute, begging to be his partner instead of the other way around. A hand through his short blond hair and a lick of his thick lips and she would be putty in his hands; it worked every time. But before he could cup her cheek like he wanted to and guide her gaze to meet his, their teacher intervened.

"Mercedes," he asked, finally drawing her attention as her head snapped up to look in the educator's direction, "Who's your partner?"

She smiled, curtly answering, "I don't need a partner, Mr. Espinosa. I'm doing just fine on my own."

"We have an even number in the class so why don't you partner with Sam? Judging by his last test score, I think he could use your help."

"But-" she began to protest, stopping when Mr. Espinosa raised a quieting hand.

"I think it will do you some good to correct someone else for a change. In addition, if you do a little tutoring you'll have another item to tack onto your college applications. Help Sam get at least a B and I'll have no problem writing you a shining letter of recommendation next year."

A huff left her as she glanced between the jock and the teacher. She stopped on Sam with a roll of her eyes and suggested, "Why can't he get a school assigned tutor?"

"Because those tutors aren't in my class. They don't know that I like to grade with _finesse_ the way you do. You've learned really well from me, Mercedes, and I'm hoping you can pass that knowledge on to someone else."

"Fine." Sam found himself grinning as she moved her items to one side of the table she sat at to make room for him to sit next to her.

Once seated, he shrugged out of his letterman jacket, being sure to offer her a view of the toned biceps in a tight black v-neck that she could have her little fingers curled around as she bobbed up and down on his cock. That is, if she wanted to. But when you're Sam Evans, everyone wants to.

"I'm doing the sample questions on page 32," she started, not pausing her work as she spoke, "The test is chapters 3-5 so I'm doing the sample questions from each chapter to give myself a little quiz so I can see where I need the most work."

"Sounds good, I guess I'll do the same."

"I don't really care what you do."

He leaned over, relishing in the fact that her breath hitched as he whispered in her ear, "You don't have to care what I do, Miss Jones. But guess what? For the next ten minutes, you're mine."

She turned to him and Sam watched her somewhat dazed gaze quickly turn to one of contempt. Narrowing her eyes and matching his whisper with a threatening one of her own she said, "Get that close to me again and we're switching partners. Your little suave shit may work on all the other girls but I'm not falling for it."

After flashing him a sweet smile that made his dick twitch, she turned back to her work, picking up where she left off and going back to ignoring him.

Yeah, she wanted it. But Sam knew he had his work cut out for him when the bell rang and she quickly gathered her stuff and rushed out of the class room. It only took him a couple of large strides to catch up to her as she neared her locker. When she reached up to enter her combination, Sam pushed himself between her and the lock, causing her hand to brush his chest. Quickly, she pulled it back but not before Sam noticed the subtle bite of her bottom lip.

"Would you please move? I have to get to my next class." Sam caught her hand as she tried to shoo him away again, pulling her nearer to him, but not too close for her to feel the excitement her proximity caused below his belt.

"Relax, you have plenty of time."

"What do you want?" The fact that she hadn't pulled away from him did not go unnoticed.

"So when do you want to start our tutoring?" he asked, his voice low so she'd have to lean in to hear him.

"My house, after school. You will be there by 5 and you will be gone by 6." The edge in her tone scared him a little, but he saw it as nothing more than a challenge to overcome, knowing that as he began to pursue her, he'd soften her up in time. And shortly after that, her cute little clipped tones would be turned into deep, satisfied, moans of his name.

"I have practice until 6," he argued.

"There by 6:30, gone by 7:30."

"Yes Ma'am. Now if I could just have your address." He ripped a piece a paper from one of his notebooks and allowed her to scrawl down her address in her neat, loopy handwriting. With a wink and a lick of his pink lips, he reluctantly slid from his current position, brushing his chest against hers just to see the contorted, flustered look on her face.

The rest of Sam's day went smoothly and without having to worry about Mercedes' presence distracting him in all of his classes, he could actually focus on what was important: how to woo Mercedes. Visiting her home after school would be a good start. Once there, he could observe her without the diversion of the academic atmosphere. Some one on one time with the girl he had been interested in for an entire year would do him some good in formulating his plan to make her his.

Football practice wasn't particularly demanding that day after school and as Sam walked to his car, he could put the sport to the back of his mind and focus on preparing himself mentally for the tutoring session he had been looking forward to all day. Nearing his car, he groaned when he saw Quinn leaning against the hood.

"Sam Evans, so nice to see you finally," she commented with a flip of her blond hair over her shoulder.

He acknowledged her with a polite, "Hi Quinn," as he tried to move past her, but she stepped between him and the car door. "Can I help you with something?"

She hooked a finger into his belt loop, drawing his hips to hers as she spoke in a breathy voice, "I just wanted to know if you had an answer for me about that date I asked you on. It's not nice to keep a poor girl waiting."

"I already said I'm not interested, Quinn." He pulled away from her, trying to open the car door again only to be blocked by Santana shoving herself in front of Quinn.

"Hey, Sammy," she said sweetly, running a hand down his chest, "Did you finally tell Quinnie she's not the one you want?"

Sam checked his watch, he was already leaving a few minutes later than he planned to and the last thing he wanted to do was anger Mercedes and start their new relationship off on a bad foot. Though seeing her angry would probably do wonders for his solo time, he didn't want t\hat anger directed at him. He offered a polite smile to each of the ladies in front of him before opening his car door and throwing his bag inside.

"Look," Santana, began, slamming a hand against the side of the vehicle, "We're tired of this little competition. Which one of us do you want?"

Sighing as he climbed into his truck he replied, "I'm really sorry but I'm interested in someone else."

"Who is she?" Quinn demanded, reaching to pull down Santana's hand from her hair where she was possibly fishing for the razor blades she claimed to keep there.

"Doesn't matter," Sam commented, sliding into his seat and closing the door behind him. "Now if you ladies will excuse me, I have a tutoring session to attend."

"Tutoring," Santana mocked, "So you'd really rather spend the night learning than hooking up with one of us? That's the most pathetic thing I've ever heard."

Sam didn't bother to respond to the two who linked arms and walked away as he started his car and pulled out of the parking lot. He made it to Mercedes' house in just enough time to run up her driveway and ring her doorbell with a minute to spare.

He didn't expect Mercedes to be happy to see him but he also didn't expect her folded arms and agitated tone, "What do you want from me?" she asked as she stepped by to let him in the door.

"Nice to see you too."

Once the door was closed, she walked over to him, shaking a finger in his direction as she spoke, "I'm not playing your little games, Sam Evans. You swagger around school like you own the damn place and you think everyone is just supposed to bow at your big ass feet. I'm not the bowing type. Nor am I the type to let you walk all over me."

Admittedly, he was taken aback by her demeanor but Sam was always quick on his feet. "You know what they say about guys with big feet?" he asked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

She ignored his question, continuing her diatribe, "Let's get a few things out of the way before we start. One, I'm not doing your work for you. Two, you will under no circumstances be able to copy my homework. Three, if you still fail, it's on you. I am not responsible for you being a dumbass."

"They say that they have big dicks," he smiled at his own remark and the words that seemed to render her momentarily speechless.

She opened her mouth to speak again but she was cut off when a deep voice called to her from within the house, "Baby girl? I thought you were bringing your friend in here to meet us."

"He's not my friend, dad," she replied, keeping her eyes trained to Sam's. "But we're coming; I was just showing him where to put his shoes." She pointed to the row of storage cubbies near the door and he slipped out of his Converse and chose a place to put them.

"Four," she continued, picking up where she left off after his shoes were away, "This little arrangement of ours is tutoring and nothing else. At school, you can continue to live in your little bubble and go back to continuing I don't exist."

"I don't do that," he rebuffed, knowing the statement was possibly true. He didn't want to remind Mercedes that the two weren't exactly close friends. She stayed in her circle and he stayed in his. Hers involved honor society, violin recitals, and sometimes spending her lunch period reading. His involved football, parties, and having his pick of any girl in the school. But he only wanted one girl and too bad for him, that one was currently running down a list that was seriously cutting into the little time he had to get on her good side.

"Five, just because you know where I live that does not mean you will ever show up here unannounced. If you're late for your tutoring and you've bypassed your hour, don't bother coming at all."

"How many rules are there?"

"That was it. Remember them all because I won't be repeating them. Now come on, my parents would like to know who is going to be in their study for the next hour." Without warning, she turned swiftly on her heels and began walking. Sam watched her ass in the tight jeans she wore for a moment before catching up with her. She led him through a large living room decorated in warm shades of red, brown and gold complimented by what appeared to be a working fireplace. The home was certainly impressive and Sam had to admire the art decorating the walls along with various family photos though he didn't have time to examine any of them before they stepped through a swinging door and into a kitchen where an older couple sat at the breakfast bar enjoying cups of coffee.

"Momma, Dad, this is Sam. Sam, these are my parents Dr. and Mrs. Jones."

Rising from her seat, a woman slightly taller than Mercedes with the same glowing brown skin extended a hand in his direction, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sam. Please make yourself at home."

He took her hand, leaning over to place a light kiss on the back of it, "No, ma'am the pleasure is all mine. I can see where Mercedes gets all of her good looks, Mrs. Jones. You must have had her when you were six!"

She giggled, swatting a playful hand in his direction, "Boy, you are a charmer. I can see why Kurt has such a crush on you."

"Mom!" Mercedes gasped, pulling her mother's hand from Sam's grasp.

"What did I do, baby? I didn't know it was some big secret. Besides it's not like anything would happen, Kurt has a boyfriend doesn't he?"

"That is not the point; you just really don't need to mention that in from of him."

Her father cleared his throat as he stood, demanding the attention of the small crowd as he walked over to Sam and extended a large hand in his direction. Sam gulped as he offered the firmest handshake he could to the man who stood a few inches higher than he did but certainly outweighed him. He would probably have to get used to this if he planned on properly dating Mercedes so he swallowed the lump of fear in his throat and greeted the man.

"You'll have to excuse my lovely ladies," he said, looking between the two women. "I am honored to have the finest quarterback McKinley's ever seen in 20 years standing right here in my kitchen. Baby, get the camera! I want a picture."

"Dad!" Mercedes squealed.

"Sorry, Necie," he said opting to snap a quick picture with his cell phone.

Sam didn't mind the attention; he was used to it, what he wasn't used to, was seeing the school's resident know-it-all in such a powerless position. He too knew the woes of embarrassing parents. Despite the fact that he was a star on the field he would always be little Sammy to his own mom and dad and while he certainly sympathized with Mercedes, he couldn't help egging on Dr. and Mrs. Jones as he questioned the Dr.'s moniker for his daughter. "Necie?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in Mercedes' direction.

Mrs. Jones took the liberty to fill him in, "Mercy, couldn't pronounce her 'M's' very well when she was little. She called herself Necedes for the longest and the little nickname just stuck." She finished her anecdote with a pinch to her daughter's plump cheeks.

"Are you two done?" Mercedes asked, worming away from her mother.

"Don't mind her when she gets crabby, Sam," Mrs. Jones continued despite her daughter's slight discomfort, "It's our fault; we're not supposed to embarrass her when she brings people home. What did we get in trouble for last week when Kurt and Tina were here for their little sleepover?"

"Mom-"

"Oh! I remember we pulled out the video from her first day of school! Do you want to see it, Sam?" Dr. Jones asked, already beginning to pull Sam out of the room with Mrs. Jones following behind them.

"No!" Mercedes shouted, grabbing Sam and pulling him back to her side.

"I wouldn't mind," Sam insisted, "It'd be nice to see if _Necie_ was as adorable then as she is now."

"I'm going to kill you," she mumbled in Sam's ear before raising her voice again and suggesting, "Sam and I should really start studying, we only have an hour."

"Isn't she just the cutest when she gets all flustered?" her mother asked, crossing the room again to pull Mercedes into a hug. "I guess we'll have to find time for the video another day, Sam. You two should get your studying started. We'll be in the den if you need anything, Necie."

"We'll be in the study," Mercedes stated, pulling Sam from the kitchen, "Come on, Evans."

"Right behind you, Necie."

She waited until they walked far enough down a hallway for her parents not to hear before turning around and glaring at him, "You call me that again and the tutoring is over. I don't care about another little dot on my already overflowing list of extra curriculars. I don't need this, you do, so I suggest you stop being such an ass and take this seriously."

He couldn't wipe the lopsided smirk from his face if he wanted to. Something about seeing her so uncomfortable made him giddy. Usually, it was her making him uncomfortable and though it wasn't her fault that his body reacted so strongly to her, it was nice to see the change in dynamic. He moved closer to her, backing her against the wall and saying, "You know it's hard for me to take you seriously when you've got that adorable picture hanging behind you." He glanced up at the framed photo depicting a young Mercedes and her mother posing against a tree dressed in matching t-shirts and shorts. "Wow, you really got your mom's shape."

"What did I tell you about getting so close to me?" she mumbled, pushing him away before continuing down the hall. "And stay away from my mom!" she added as she disappeared through a door.

He followed behind her entering the study where her materials were already set up. She chose a seat on one side of the large desk leaving him with the other. Quickly, he decided to move the chair around to the other side of the desk so he could sit beside her. Already, he had learned that lessening the distance between the two of them would be a quick way to attack her defense. She didn't think as quickly when he was so close and Sam would try to use that fact to his advantage.

"You know I was just kidding," he said, plopping down into his chair. "More than anything, I was trying to compliment you."

"And why would you be trying to do that?" She was back to refusing to look at him as she flipped through a few pages worth of Trigonometry notes.

He leaned in, brushing her hair back from her shoulder as he admitted, "Because you're cute."

It took her a couple of seconds to respond and Sam enjoyed every moment of her obviously stunned silence. "Still not doing your homework," was her quiet reply.

"Why do you think that's what I want from you?"

"Because you haven't said two words to me in the last year since I transferred to McKinley. If you wanted to tell me I was cute, you've had a whole year to do it. Now, since the precious football star is in danger of losing his position he has so much to say to me. Also, he thinks I'm cute. Bullshit." With the last word, she turned to look at him with a slightly darkened expression.

"It's not bullshit. Besides, it's not that you would ever give me the time of day. Ignoring someone can go both ways, you know."

She sighed, shaking her head as she turned back to her notes, "You've already lost 15 minutes of your hour. I suggest we start."

Sam agreed but he wasn't done attempting to break Mercedes down. He didn't figure he would be able to make too much progress in the first session but the fact that he already felt as if he was starting to get to know her better made a world of difference. It also didn't hurt that he spent most of their hour scooted as closely as he could get to her because he "accidentally" left his textbook in school so they were both forced to huddle around hers. Occasionally, a hand of his would venture boldly to her body, allowing himself only the slightest grazes of her soft skin that his touches left covered in goose bumps. Sam was impressed that his advances didn't seem to faze her too much. She kept the two focused on work and though Sam wanted nothing more than to turn off the steady stream of math-related terms flowing from her, he forced himself to try and learn something from the session.

On the other hand, he seemed to impress her with the fact that he was able to grasp the material quickly and respond well to her method of teaching. Sam wouldn't tell her that the words sunk in because as she spoke he kept his eyes trained to her glossed lips, unable to forget a single syllable that slipped past them. He wanted to kiss her, to pull her into his lap and spend the rest of his evening figuring out what flavor the gloss tempting him was but he knew it would be too soon to make that kind of move.

By the end of their hour, surprisingly, Mercedes wasn't pushing him out of the door. The two actually ended with some light conversation that included Sam goading Mercedes into a tour of her home. Sam took note of the awards scattered around the house, the tasteful decor, and the warm feeling emanating from every room and deduced that if he wanted Mercedes he would have to pursue her with sincerity. Normally, he could snap his fingers and have a girl at his side but he wouldn't get Mercedes in that way. He'd have to work for it if he wanted to achieve his goal of making her his girlfriend and Sam was more than willing to do just that.

They ended the evening with a pleasant goodbye on the front porch after they had slipped into another twenty minutes of conversation. It was easy for Sam to talk to Mercedes. He didn't have to rattle off his football stats or brag about the colleges interested in him to impress her. She seemed happy hearing about the fact that his little brother and sister would absolutely love her almost complete collection of Disney movies though the Lord of the Rings DVDs she owned were more his own taste. He wasn't surprised to find out that she had a certain weakness for sci-fi and fantasy movies as she rattled off a few of her favorites while they stood on the front porch. A phone call from his parents ended their evening and after a gentle hug, Sam was on his way home with a smile he couldn't get rid of.

After just one evening she was warming up to him and Sam had to be sure to play his cards right so that she wouldn't close up again. The next day at school, they acknowledged one another in the halls and though they were brief, Sam was sure the waves meant something. The thought was confirmed over the next couple of days as Sam got closer to Mercedes. Slowly, she let her guard down around him and he could notice the subtle changes in her demeanor whenever he was around. The seat next to her permanently became his in their Trig class and she went from being annoyed at having to offer her help to willingly offering whenever he seemed to be stuck on a problem. They even exchanged phone numbers after one very long study night where they didn't get any studying done and ended up sitting through a movie after Sam joined her family for dinner.

Sam was making advances in the friendship department but he didn't forget about the fact that he intended to begin a romantic relationship with Mercedes. He took every opportunity to compliment her, sometimes doing it in front of their friends and not caring about the strange, questioning looks he received. Aside from the compliments, Sam also tried to get Mercedes used to the idea of sharing her personal space with him. He'd wrap an arm around her as they walked to class or always move his chair as close as he could. Soon, she began to anticipate his moves, sometimes, pulling his arm around her shoulders before he could get it there or snuggling close to him when they would sit on the couch in the study, unwinding when they finished their tutoring.

The week passed by too quickly for Sam and he knew that with the test fast approaching his time with Mercedes would come to an end. He decided to get in as much time with her as he could, making the decision to break one of her rules and show up to her home unannounced.

At first, she smiled, and Sam would swear she was happy to see him but before long she sobered and asked, "What are you doing here?"

"It is 6:25, darlin', I'm here for my tutoring session," he stated plainly, gesturing toward the book bag slung over his shoulder.

"It's Saturday."

"And? Are you really going to deny me the extra help you know I so desperately need? I know you said if I fail the test it's on me, but what would everyone think if they found out the girl genius couldn't help the dumb jock get a B."

"You're not a dumb jock. You're actually doing really well."

"And I can do better if I get my lesson."

"Come in," she sighed, moving aside to let him into the house.

"Do your parents have any more embarrassing pictures to show me tonight?" Sam had already seen enough pictures from Mercedes' childhood to recreate years 1-17 of her life. Her parents adored their only child and took any opportunity presented to show off anything they could. Initially, Mercedes would always be embarrassed but soon she'd settle into the conversations, telling stories of her own and even pulling a few out of Sam about his own childhood. He liked talking with her in that way, allowing her to get to know the guy that most other people saw as no more than just a jersey and a pair of cleats.

"Thank God, they're not home. They're gone until tomorrow evening, spending the weekend with some friends from college."

"So you're home alone?" Before Sam could even begin to think about how to get Mercedes pressed up against any of the flat surfaces in her house, she curtailed his musings with a poke to the chest.

"Don't get any ideas. Shoes at the door and I'll meet you in the study. I have to go grab my things."

He gave her a playful salute before walking toward the kitchen. He didn't have time to eat after picking up his siblings from their play dates and skipping out on family dinner and his stomach was loudly reminding him of that fact. Though Sam didn't have a plan, he wanted to get just a little closer to Mercedes but the gurgling sounds coming from his mid-section probably wouldn't help to get her in the mood.

"What are you doing?" she asked, walking into the kitchen with her textbook and watching as he helped himself to a small bag of chips.

"Your mom said I could help myself if I was ever hungry. She's a very hospitable woman. Unlike you, Necie, you need to learn how to treat your guests better."

"Guests don't help themselves to our pantry."

"Sorry, love, I didn't have my dinner yet."

"Neither did I, I was just going to order a pizza. I can't believe I'm asking this, but do you want to stay for dinner?"

"Wouldn't that cut into my hour?"

"I think we've already broken the hour long rule."

"How hospitable of you. Chip?" He offered her the snack and she put her palm out to receive it. He shook his head, "Nah, come get it."

She eyed his warily, "Why?"

He closed the distance between them, sitting down the bag of chips as he stepped in front of her. "Maybe I'm interested in breaking another one of your rules," he rasped, allowing his eyes to travel up and down her body. She was only wearing a pair of leggings and a baggy t-shirt that hung off one shoulder but the way she wore it made it one of the sexiest combinations he'd ever seen.

She kept her cool, meeting his lustful stare with an indifferent one, "I thought I told you not to get any ideas. You're only here to study. Be glad I'm letting you stay for dinner."

"That's right, you did invite me to eat." He snaked a hand around her waist and pulled her flush against him. She moaned as her body pressed to his but she didn't pull away and Sam took that as a sign to continue. He kissed her on the cheek, gently, softly, before repeating the action on her other cheek, barely grazing the side of her lips.

"Sam," she began, her voice quiet, "Should I ask what you're doing?"

He allowed his hand to travel down to her ass, cursing as he grabbed a handful of her soft behind and pulled her hips closer to his. "If you have to ask, then I'm not doing it right."

She placed her hands softly on his chest pushing away slightly, "I don't know if we should."

"Why not? We are just two people who are obviously attracted to one another-"

"I never said that."

"Well here's your opportunity. I am very attracted to you, Mercedes, and if you feel the same way about me, I don't see any harm in us continuing."

"What are we going to do?" she questioned, worrying her bottom lip.

"Nothing you don't want to. Really, I've just been dying to kiss all on your beautiful face, and maybe get another hand on that lovely ass of yours." He squeezed again, drawing a squeal from her as he leaned down to take her lips.

The kiss was soft at first, calm even until Sam backed Mercedes against a nearby counter. Once he had her trapped, he began to nibble on her lips, urging her to part them and allow him to sneak his tongue into her mouth. She quickly caught on, parting her lips with a whimper and allowing Sam to massage her tongue with his. His hands moved from her ass, gliding up her t-shirt, feathering over her sides until he reached her breasts. Arching toward him, she encouraged him to brush over her nipples with his thumbs until the nubs hardened to his touch.

Mercedes felt better than Sam could have imagined and he imagined how she felt a lot. Every part of her was soft and warm and his hands went crazy trying to figure out what part of her he wanted to focus on. She had to feel the tented front of his jeans pushing against her middle but she didn't seem to mind so Sam took a chance. Pulling his hands from her shirt, he gripped the sides of it and pulled it off, revealing the light blue bra he was anxious to get rid of. He didn't want to move too fast and intended to savor the moment just in case Mercedes changed her mind so he moved back in slowly, kissing her lips then along her jawline and down her neck before nudging her bra straps down and using his hands to fully cup her breasts and inch them out of the fabric. He kissed the flesh he exposed little by little until her dark areola appeared and he couldn't help but pull each of her bra cups the rest of the way down and latch his mouth onto the nubs begging for his attention. He sucked, licked, and nibbled on her, reveling in the taste of her and the feel of her in his hands.

"Sammmm," she moaned, looping her fingers into his hair and tugging gently as he continued to play. He didn't rush, taking the time to show each of her breasts proper attention and even leave a noticeable mark above the right one.

"You like that?" he asked, swirling his tongue around a nipple, then nipping it gently and repeating the action.

"Yes!"

He moved to her other breast as he asked, "You want me to do more?"

"Mmmmhmmmm."

He rose, returning his lips to hers as he gripped her ass and lifted her onto the counter.

"Where else do you want me to kiss you, babe?"

She didn't respond as she leaned back against the counter, guiding his hands to band of her pants. He leaned in, placing a kiss to the darkened spot between her legs. "You want me to kiss you here?"

"Yes."

Her answer was barely out before he tugged her pants off and tossed them to the floor. He salivated, his tongue anxious to taste her, but he took his time, using two fingers to tease her through her panties, running his fingers along the wet fabric, rubbing harder when he reached her opening and harder still when he reached her clit. He focused on her body, watching her tense and shiver on the counter each time he rubbed the stiff nub. Pushing her panties to the side, he grazed her slick lips with his fingers before letting a digit slip inside of her and begin to pump in and out of her wetness. He withdrew the finger, bringing it to his mouth and releasing a delighted moan as she sucked her essence from it.

"You're so damn sweet, Mercedes. You wanna taste?" she nodded and he dipped a finger back in, bringing it to her after he withdrew it and smearing the cream on her lips. She smiled devilishly as she licked her lips, moaning at her own taste. Sam leaned over and pressed his lips to hers in a tight kiss as he slid a hand down her body and put one finger, then another back to work inside of her. She raised her hips beneath him, riding his fingers at a frantic pace until Sam stopped suddenly when he remembered that he was supposed to be kissing her there. As good as she felt writhing beneath him he wanted to truly taste her so he removed his lips from hers and moved between her legs before she could complain. The panties had to go this time and he practically ripped them from her body before pressing his mouth to her center, licking her from slit to clit with his tongue, taking the time to stimulate the sensitive button, watching it swell as he repeatedly laved over it. He darted his tongue in and out of her, pushing in as deeply as he could, gripping her raised hips to help guide his actions.

"Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit ," she hissed, gripping the edge of the counter and grinding her hips against his face. The cursing combined with the shaking of her legs that threatened to snap shut at any moment told him she was close to coming. He kept up his routine of licking, sucking, and nipping, beginning to pump his fingers inside of her again to bring her over the edge.

He found his name somewhere in the mostly unintelligible sentences that she screamed in the otherwise quiet home as he continued to feast until she was spent. Slowly, softly he kissed his way back up her body pulling her into his arms and sharing a deep kiss.

When her body calmed, Sam pulled away, and helped her off the counter. She studied him for a moment, lust still in her eyes, before she allowed her gaze to settle on the very prominent bulge in his jeans.

Sam moved to cover his arousal, stating, "I can take care of that myself."

She chuckled, "I really like your mouth and all, Sam, but sometimes you just need to learn to shut it." She made quick work of unbuttoning and unzipping his pants before fishing inside and pulling out his thick cock.

"Whatever you say." Sam found himself suddenly short of words as she dropped gracefully to her knees and began to stroke him slowly.

"Do you want me to kiss you here?" she asked, running a thumb over the leaking head of his member.

"Uh-huh," he nodded, his body already near release thanks to the sounds of her pleasure-filled moans. She started with a gentle kiss to his cock, parting her lips slowly to slide him into her mouth. One hand began to massage his balls while the other continued her slow, tortuous strokes. Leaning back against the counter, groaning her praises, Sam let Mercedes take control while he tried to resist grabbing fistfuls of her hair as she moved further down him, relaxing the muscles in her throat to get more of him inside her humid mouth. He wanted to come the moment she began to hum delightedly as she slipped him back out of her mouth before beginning to move her head in a perfectly timed bob on his cock.

Too soon, he felt the tightening in his balls and the pressure in his abdomen that accompanied the spurts of his hot cum coating her throat. She continued to work her mouth around him, sucking every last drop of cum he had to offer before his knees gave way and he fell back, fully supported by the counter. She rose from her knees, a smug smirk on her face as she pulled his face to hers and kissed him ardently.

"Who knew you were such a fucking freak, Miss Jones?" he rumbled against her lips.

She tugged then released his swollen bottom lip as she replied, "There's a lot you don't know about me, Sam. In fact, I think you've already found out too much."

"I'll try and keep quiet," he promised with another kiss.

Sam didn't hear from Mercedes all day on Sunday. He spent the day with his family, attending church and a birthday party in the park for one of his sibling's little friends. All day, he checked his cell phone, anxious for her to return any of the three texts he sent her last night after leaving her house. He thought about her the entire night, the way her body felt against his, the way she kissed him passionately like she had been wanting to do it for as long as he had, and most of all, he couldn't forget her taste, her sticky sweet cum stayed with him, making his tongue heavy in his mouth as he tried to sleep. He tried calling and after two calls that rang until her voicemail picked up, he sent her two quick texts:

**I hope I get another tutoring session tomorrow, I think I need more instruction**

**I can't wait to taste you again, tell me I get to**

After receiving no response, he quickly rubbed one out and sent her one last message before drifting off to sleep:

**What we did today was amazing…I want more of you whenever you're ready**

It wasn't until early Monday morning that she returned his messages:

**I'm really sorry but what happened Saturday was a mistake, a momentary lapse in judgment. Just so you know, it won't be happening again. After the test is over, we're done. **

"Shit," he said rereading the message again as he walked into school. He didn't have a reply for the change she was trying to create in their relationship so he shoved his cell phone back into his pocket and tried to ignore it.

She didn't seem dissatisfied with anything they were doing and if at any moment, Sam felt she wasn't into it, he would have stopped. He prayed she was bluffing, trying to shift them back to original relationship so neither of them would get hurt but he couldn't except that. If he was a betting man, he'd bet his own life that Mercedes wanted him as badly as he wanted her. He'd caught her staring while they studied and noticed how she began to return his flirty conversation after their third evening spent together. She liked him, he could feel it and he wasn't going to let her deny it.

He was half way to his first class before he stopped in his tracks and turned around, making a retreat for the door. Today, he would skip school. He would miss the test, Mercedes would still have to tutor him for a few more days until he could make it up, and he would have time to get her to change her mind about ending their relationship before it even started.

Puck caught up to him before he could make it to the door, placing a hand on his shoulder to stop him he asked, "Where are you going, man? We have a test in like five minutes."

"I'm skipping it," he stated, turning to leave before Puck stopped him again.

"Why? Aren't you prepared? I thought you've been studying for this thing for the past week."

"I'm actually prepared for the test," he sighed, letting out a deep, thoughtful breath before continuing, "But if I do well Mercedes won't tutor me anymore."

Puck shot him a confused expression, "And? That's a good thing isn't it?"

"Not really. I like her."

"So just ask her out, fuck the tutoring."

"I need more time to wear her down. I don't think she's ready yet."

"Go all in, give her the full Sam Evans experience."

"I'll be honest with you, the 'Sam Evans Experience' just usually involves me telling a girl we're going on a date and she should wear something tight. It doesn't take much."

"Well, she probably won't be too impressed if you get a zero on the test. The least you can do is show up. After that, you can figure out how you want to impress her."

Sam nodded, turning and walking to class with Puck. When they got there, he noticed Mercedes standing outside of the classroom toying with her cell phone.

"Here's your chance," Puck suggested, pushing Sam in her direction before disappearing into the classroom.

"Hey, Mercedes," he began sidling up next to her.

"Hi, Sam," she said, keeping her eyes trained on the small screen in front of her.

"Sooo, I was thinking that maybe we could hook up some time you want to."

Her eyes narrowed as she looked up at him and asked, "Didn't you get my text?"

"I got your text but I'm not responding to it because I don't believe you."

She huffed, "What do you mean?"

"I mean that Saturday wasn't a mistake. We both enjoyed everything that happened and it puts us one step closer to making this real."

"This? There is no 'this' between us. Saturday shouldn't have happened because I have no interest in being another girl you've fucked and left in the dust. I deserve better."

"You do, and I want to give it to you. I want more than just sex from you, Mercedes."

She rolled her eyes at his statement, "And you really proved that to me Saturday night. I'm not your type, Sam and you're not mine so let's just be glad we can be done with one another after today." With a fake smile, she turned and walked into the classroom with Sam following closely behind her. This conversation wasn't over and it wasn't going to end just because she tried to walk away from him.

He took the seat next to hers and continued the discussion, paying no attention to the tests already laid out on the table in front of them, but lowering his voice to a whisper as their teacher answered a question at the back of the room, "I'm not done with you and you're not done with me."

"You don't get to decide that," she replied under her breath, pulling out a pencil and beginning her exam.

"And you do? I want to date you-"

"Mr. Evans and Miss Jones!" Mr. Espinosa called out from behind them. "If the two of you have so much to talk about you can do it after school where you'll be finishing your tests!" He collected their papers and returned to his desk.

"What?" Mercedes asked, coming out of her momentary shock.

"I don't tolerate talking during my exams. Be lucky I don't give the two of you automatic F's. Be here at 3 and you will be taking an alternate version of the test."

"I have football practice after school," Sam asserted.

"That's not my problem. Be here at 3 or you fail."

Mercedes crossed her arms over her chest, pouting adorably at the inconvenience.

Sam leaned over and offered a quiet, "I'm sorry."

She rolled her eyes. The same exact thing she did whenever he tried to approach her at any other point during the day. After being shut down again in their Physics class, he gave up, opting to give her time to cool off until after school. Luckily, Puck was able to fill in for him at football practice so his presence on the field wouldn't be missed too much and when he arrived back to Mr. Espinosa's classroom, Mercedes was already there but their teacher was nowhere in sight.

"Where's Mr. Espinosa?" he asked, taking a seat across from her, seeing as his normal seat next to her was currently housing her book bag.

"He went to make a few copies; we had to wait until you got here before we could start. You know, this is so fucked up." She commented through clenched teeth.

"It's not that big of a deal. You'll be done in like 10 minutes, you always finish first."

She mumbled, "I have to do something to stand out."

"You do stand out. I don't know any other girls as pretty as you are."

"What is with you?" she asked, snapping her head around to shoot him an icy stare.

"What did I do?"

"All the compliments, that shit that happened on Saturday, calling me to ask about my day, what are you trying to get from me?"

"Maybe I just want a fucking date."

"No," she replied quickly turning to face the front of the classroom again.

"Why not?" he pushed, he wasn't going to stop now, not when she was finally talking to him again.

"I don't date jocks."

"Or anyone at all apparently. What would be so wrong with giving me a chance?"

"I don't have time for-"

"Are you two ready?" Mr. Espinosa questioned, walking into the classroom and cutting their conversation short. They each nodded and he passed out their tests, signaling for them to begin whenever they were ready.

As Sam predicted, Mercedes finished first and she was gone from the classroom before he could finish with the test that he knew he aced thanks to Mercedes' help but he wasn't quite finished with his former tutor. He knew the next couple of days wouldn't be easy, but he was going to put all of himself into trying to get back into her good graces.

He started light, with a good morning text that she never returned and another note of apology waiting on her chair when she got to class. It only took her a day to start acknowledging him again and they were back to waving at one another in the halls within two days. On the fourth day of the week, as their teacher passed back their exams, congratulating Mercedes on her perfect score and Sam on the A he received she even hugged him, happy for both of their results.

After the hug, it was time to lay things on a little thicker. A box of chocolates, and a glasses-wearing teddy bear showed up in her locker holing a note that asked if she would go out with him. Sam watched from down the hall as she discarded the note but kept the bear and handed the chocolates off to Kurt. Next, it was a sizeable bouquet of orchids followed by a charm bracelet, and finally her own copy of _The Great Gatsby_, a novel she admitted to borrowing form the library several times a year.

She only really seemed interested in the book. Everything else found its way into her backpack and he never saw it again. He didn't bother to ask about the gifts when he saw her in class, already knowing that she received everything so aside from asking her out again at least three times a day only to be turned down time and time again, he enjoyed talking with her about other things that didn't involve the two of them dating.

When Sam noticed her wearing the charm bracelet, he knew it was time to pull out the last step of his plan. He had a hand-written card for Mercedes that he slipped into her locker one day after football practice when he knew her debate team practice would be running long. In it, he'd written how he felt about her, all of the things he never had the opportunity to say, seeing as they no longer spent time together outside of school. Sam wasn't the best with words but he managed to express in the card that he wanted to be wither her, more than anything, and that he would keep pursuing her until she at least gave him a chance.

He watched her from around a corner in the deserted hallway as she opened her locker and noticed the card. She smiled happily as she read it, putting it back into the envelope when she finished and tucking it safely inside of her book bag before pulling out her cell phone. His phone buzzed a few seconds after she put hers away and he pulled it out to read the message from her:

**Thank you for the card, it was really sweet but the answer is still no.**

"Why not?" Sam found himself shouting down the hall, startling Mercedes as he walked in her direction. She quickly closed her locker and turned to face him, pulling her shoulders back and taking a deep breath as he neared her.

"Why can't you just let the answer be no?" she asked, folding her arms across her chest.

"Because I don't get why the answer isn't yes."

She stomped her foot angrily, "Because you don't always get everything you want, Sam. The world doesn't always work in your favor. The card was really nice and maybe you mean all the stuff you said in there now, but are you still going to mean it when I'm not helping you get good grades anymore?"

"Yes!" His tone matched hers but he didn't bother to quiet down despite the echoes of their voices in the empty hall, "Do you think I'm just using you?"

"I really don't know. I've seen you do this shit for girls before, everything except the card, and I don't know if you're just trying to cross some item off of your bucket list by fucking me but I'm not that kind of girl."

He sighed, softening his voice as he spoke, "I know you're not, Mercedes. I know you're different from any other girl I've ever dated and that's why I want to be with you. I don't see why you have to question that."

"If there is anything you should know about me, Sam, it's that I question _everything_. Including the cute jock that has the world's most random crush on me."

"It's not random if someone has liked you a whole damn year. Plus, I'm more than just a jock, Mercedes, and you know that. I think you keep telling yourself that to push me away but I'm going to keep fighting until you let me in. I'm not going anywhere."

"You just have to get everything you want, don't you?" she asked, a small smile twisting the corners of her mouth.

"So do you. And something else that we have in common is the fact that we're both willing to work hard for the things we want. I want you and I'm not stopping until you at least give me an opportunity to get you."

"I'm not some object that you can own."

"I'm not trying to own you. If anything, in the same way I want you to be mine, I want to be yours as well. You can ask anybody, I haven't so much as glanced at anyone else since we started talking. No one does for it me the way you do. And if Saturday taught me anything, I do it for you as well."

She giggled, poking his chest teasingly, "You are so damn cocky."

"So are you. You can't tell me that we don't fucking belong together. I think you want this as much as I do. For once, don't argue and just let it happ-"

She cut him off by wrapping her fingers around his neck and pulling his face to hers, kissing him and causing him to forget the rest of his sentence in a sudden daze. He kissed her back hungrily, grabbing her hips and turning them so he could press her against the lockers. Both their mouths parted automatically, their tongues battling in a kiss they each tried to control. Sam glided his hands down to Mercedes' backside, moving beneath her skirt to grab her ass and hoist her up, wrapping her legs tightly around him.

According to Sam, it was Mercedes who began grinding her hips against his, causing him to get excited, rubbing his hardness against her center as they continued to kiss. But it was Sam who moved his hands between Mercedes' legs to begin massaging the area of the growing wet spot on the front of her lace panties.

She pulled away from him with a whimper, pushing his chest lightly as she said, "Sam, Sam, wait. We really can't do this here." She looked up and down the hall worriedly, causing Sam to remember that were still in school and in addition to the janitor's there were possibly still some of their classmates and teachers roaming the halls. The bulge in his pants wouldn't allow him to go home without some sort of relief and he didn't trust himself to walk to the parking lot with her.

"You're right," he said, pulling her from the lockers and carrying her to the nearest empty class room and locking the door behind them. He walked them to the back of the room, away from the door and any windows, sitting her down a on table and picking up their heated kisses again. His hand founds its way back between her legs, pushing her panties aside and beginning to tease her damp folds. She moaned into their kiss, practically begging for the fingers he slipped inside of her, curling them to tap at her spot. It wasn't long after Sam increased his actions by adding a thumb to stroke her clit and move his mouth to suck her breasts through her thin t-shirt, that she was coming apart, thrusting wildly against his fingers as her climax ripped through her. Much like their last time together, Sam brought his fingers to his mouth, tasting her again and wondering how he went all this time with her on his lips. He kissed her, allowing her to taste the essence he was quickly growing to love before pulling away to remove both of their shirts and start on his jeans. He pulled a condom from his wallet then slipped out of his pants and pulled off her skirt. As he moved to position himself between her legs, she closed them shut, giving him a teasing smirk.

"Sit down," she demanded, gesturing toward a chair and handing him the condom. He did as he was told, putting on the protection as he watched her begin to stroke herself leisurely. He couldn't wait to plunge into the dripping valley between her thighs and as she hopped off the table and moved to straddle him, his cock jumped in anticipation. He cupped her ass, bringing her forward and gently kissing her soft stomach, as she got comfortable.

"You got to control everything else, sweetie," she began as she lined up his cock with her entrance and started to slide slowly down his length, wincing as she did so. She didn't speak again until he was fully seated inside of her, and he was already ready to burst from the tightness and the gentle rocking of her hips that could barely be classified as movement. "I'm controlling this," she commented, digging her nails into his shoulders and pushing herself back up, continuing to swivel her hips as she did before slamming back down onto his lap. She repeated the action again and then a third time before he was shouting her name against her lips.

She covered his mouth with hers, to try and quiet both of their moans as they settled into a steady rhythm with Mercedes bouncing and working her hips and Sam thrusting up to meet her motions. He enjoyed the view of her breasts bouncing out of her bra and couldn't help but take a budded nipple into his mouth as she laid her head on his shoulder, holding onto to him tightly as he began to fuck her harder.

"Oh God, shit, fuck, Sam!" she yelled into the crook of his neck. The feeling of her walls clenching tightly around him repeatedly made it progressively harder for him to continue his thrusts, but he powered through, claiming her lips again as he felt her release dripping down into his lap. He kept her damp body pressed to his for a few more thrusts before his hips began buck uncontrollably as he filled the condom with release. Most of his body went limp but his arms wrapped tighter around Mercedes who had stopped moving entirely save for the deep breaths causing her chest to heave against his. He turned to look at her, her eyes remaining tightly, closed as she pushed back the hair plastered to her forehead.

"Hey," he whispered, pecking her lips gently.

Her eyes fluttered open and she grinned as she responded with an almost silent, "Yes?"

"You know, you never told me whether or not you changed your mind about that date."

"Do I really have to answer that?"

"You made me work so hard for it, babe, I really need to hear it."

"Friday night. Be at my house by 7."

"8 works better for me."

She grabbed his face, pulling him into a passionate kiss.

"Shit," he sighed, trying to catch his breath as she sized up the woman who would probably be the death of him, "7 it is."

* * *

**Did you make it the whole way through? If so, allow me to commend you on a job well done. How was it, lovely harem members? Let me know, reviews below. **


	20. First Time for Everything

**Hi All! Quickly, I just wanted to thank everyone for reading and for the feedback! I never thought I'd be writing so many little Samcedes stories but I am glad to do it if y'all enjoy it. :)**

**_This one-shot features: Tattooed! ain't shit! Sam, Mercy, a birthday, Thor, and a nipple ring. _**

* * *

He saw her crossing the street, dodging a Hummer just in time to avoid ending up road kill before flipping off the careless driver. She recovered quickly, tossing her hair over her shoulder and flagging him down just as he moved to lock the front door of his modest shop.

She looked just as pretty as she did last week, when she'd come in with a friend asking a bevy of intense questions about tattoo procedures and the cleanliness of his establishment. Sam didn't admit it to anyone, but he looked forward to seeing her again, hoping that she wouldn't chicken out and that he would have the opportunity to get to know the inquisitive young woman. There was something about her melodic giggles, sweet yet stern voice, and vivacious demeanor that had Sam perking up each time the door opened, hoping she'd be his next customer. A whole week went by before he saw her, the sight of her in a pair of sinfully tight jeans reminding him just how much one could miss a complete stranger. It was almost time to close the parlor and head home for the night but as he watched her bounding in his direction, he could only flash a crooked smile as he held the door open for her.

"You made it just in time," he commented as she closed the space between them, stopping when she reached the front door to glance at the _Closed_ sign he'd just flipped over.

"I'm sorry, am I too late?" Mercedes asked, worrying her bottom lip and looking up at him with hopeful eyes. Though she was glued to her laptop and buried in textbooks for most of the day, she still blamed Tina for not allowing her make it to the Inky Dink tattoo parlor at an earlier hour. Of course, it wasn't the fault of the nerves twisting her belly at the decision to make the permanent modification or the fact that she avoided Puck's questions each time he asked her whether she had finally taken the plunge. It didn't matter what kept her from Harris Street, what was important was what brought her back. She returned not only because of the birthday gift she promised herself but also because of the tall, green-eyed tattoo artist that had firmly nestled his way into her thoughts since she first laid eyes on him a little over seven days ago.

"Not yet, I've still got 15 more minutes but I was just locking up. One more customer won't hurt, though. Come in." How could he say no to her? He would keep the shop open until midnight if that was what it took to get her back in his presence.

"Thanks," she sighed, offering him with a wide smile as she walked through the door, brushing her body against his intentionally. "I would have come earlier but I was running late because I was waiting for my roommate to come home. She didn't have her keys and so I just told her I'd wait for her to come back instead of her having to stay with her boyfriend, even though she stays with him all the time, she wanted to come home and get more clothes..."

Her rambling was adorable. Sam used it as an opportunity to take in the rest of the casual outfit she wore. The rude jeans were paired with a sheer blouse, the open top buttons of which would surely give some lucky bystander a show if she chose to bend down.

"Aaaand you probably don't care about any of that," she finished, placing a quieting hand over her mouth. Something about the man in front of her made her slightly nervous. Just a few days ago, they were involved in a heavy Q&A session that left her both satisfied _and_ a little horny. Sam expertly fielded each of her questions, successfully helping to ease her mind about letting him give her her first tattoo. It also didn't hurt that they exchanged a few longing stares that felt as if they were each only seconds away from ripping the other's clothes off.

"If you just came in here to chat with me I'm not opposed to that. But I'm guessin' you came for a tattoo," he replied, gesturing toward the papers she clutched in her hands.

"Right," she piped, glancing down at the slightly rumpled documents before shoving them in his direction. He walked to the front desk, beckoning her to follow behind so he could look over everything. She supplied her ID when he asked, glancing around the art-covered walls as he examined it.

"I guess a 'happy birthday' is in order, _Mercedes_," Sam said with a wink handing the plastic card back to her.

"Thank you. As a little gift to myself I finally worked up the courage to get a little ink. Took me a whole week to talk myself back into it." She ducked her head, shaking her long black and brown streaked hair as she dug into the bag slug across her shoulder before returning with a few crudely drawn sketches. Though it wasn't necessary, she received opinions from all of her friends who felt they knew exactly what her first tattoo should be and she had the sketches to prove it. Tina suggested several animals, while Kurt thought song lyrics would be in order, and Puck could only suggest that she get 'sexy mama' tattooed prominently on her rump.

"What did you have in mind?" Sam questioned, leaning over the counter to peer at the designs she laid out in front of him.

"I've narrowed it down but I'm still not positive," she confessed, mirroring his stance as they shuffled through the pile of papers. Mercedes would never admit it, but maybe she unbuttoned the first few buttons on her blouse the moment she turned onto Harris Street and maybe the jeans she had on hadn't seen the light of day since she had decided to show her ex-boyfriend just what he was missing after he dumped her for a girl half her size but twice as loose. She hadn't needed the jeans since then but today, she decided that Mercedes Jones would strut her fabulous ass and possibly bang a tattoo artist while she was it.

"Hmm, my only advice is to get something meaningful to you. Also, nothing in a language you don't speak - it could say butthole for all you know."

She giggled, leaning against the counter and flashing him a view of the purple lace bra she wore. "I'll keep that in mind. Any other advice?"

He tapped his chin contemplatively, thinking of the advice he doled out on a daily basis while trying not to stare at the cleavage teasing him unmercifully. "I always tell people to stay away from names of significant others. Those seem to have a high rate of regret."

She nodded, "We don't have to worry about that one. No boyfriend." She leaned over further, giving him an easier view of what he was already looking at.

He wondered if she saw his pleased smile but he forgot about it the moment he felt a small hand trailing up his arm, pushing up the sleeve of the tee he wore to gaze at his tattoo-covered arms.

"What are you looking for?" he asked, allowing her to lift his sleeve further to examine the guitar tattooed on his bicep.

"Just checkin' you for girlfriend names," she admitted innocently, bringing her brown-eyed gaze to meet his.

"You won't find any, that kind of thing looks really bad on a single guy." There was definitely a pleased smile on her face, quickly hidden by her hair as she averted her eyes to the counter again.

A small silence enveloped the room as she idly shuffled the papers between them before Sam asked, "So what have you narrowed it down to?"

"I was thinking music notes or my name. I know neither are terribly original but they're both meaningful to me. I think I might actually be leaning more towards a nickname though."

"And that would be?"

"Mercy," she stated simply, giving in to a small smile as she continued, "It's silly but my dad always used to give me this little pep talk on the first day of school every year. He'd strap on my backpack, tap me on the chin and say, "Give 'em hell, baby girl. Remember, show 'em no mercy, Mercy.""

He chuckled, surprised at the anecdote and the imitation of her father's voice. "That's adorable," he declared.

"Yeah real cute," she mocked with a roll of her eyes. "It's gotten less cute now that I'm a junior in college and he and my mom drive two hours on the first day of classes every year so he can continue the ritual."

"Nah, I think it's still cute," he teased, biting his bottom lip and shrugging.

"Alright, _Mercy_ it is," she declared, clapping her hands excitedly.

After they picked a script for her tattoo and had it transferred to a stencil, Mercedes walked around the shop, looking at the photos and designs from other customers before Sam grabbed her hand, letting her know it was time.

"So you are 21 today, _Mercy_," he noted, leading her to the chair in the middle of the shop. "What kind of 21 spends their birthday alone?"

She slid into the chair, resting against the back of it as she rolled up her sleeve, allowing him to clean and shave the area on her wrist where she decided to get her tattoo. "I kind of requested to be alone. In exchange for a quiet birthday, my friends have effectively blocked off my entire weekend. We're just doing cake and my first legal drink tonight." Mercedes was proud of the deal she struck up, having no desire to be drunk on a Wednesday night.

"That sounds like a good plan." The room was quiet as Sam finished prepping Mercedes' skin. He asked several times if she was ready before he began. Each time she nodded, telling him to begin as soon as possible. He warned her that it might hurt but hopefully she'd get used to it as he went along. She was quiet, closing her eyes and resting as he worked, taking care to properly outline the letters of the small tattoo.

He felt her shift in her chair as she crossed one leg over the over, her eyes fluttering open as she glanced down at him. He looked up to see her smiling, not at the dark letters on her arm but at him.

"What school do you go to?" he asked, breaking the comfortable quiet between them.

"I'm over at Oberlin."

"Something tells me you're in the music program."

"Guilty."

"I've been thinking about taking some art courses myself; try to 'hone my skills' as they say."

"I've heard good things about you."

He perked up, hoping that whoever had spoken of him only had great things to say. "Reall, from who?"

"Noah Puckerman, he used to date my roommate, said he's an acquaintance of yours."

"Yeah," Sam nodded excitedly at the mention of one of his favorite customers, "I know him, he's a good dude." She agreed, watching him as he worked.

"Looks good so far," she noted with a smile, studying the tattoo before closing her eyes again as Sam switched instruments, now preparing to darken and shade in the letters.

"Can I ask you something?" Sam asked, after the quiet fell over them again. He would be finished soon but he was far from ready to let Mercedes go. If he kept her talking, maybe somewhere in their conversation he could find a way to make her stay a little longer or at least find a way to see her again.

"Sure."

He paused his shading to look at her, studying her calm features before asking, "What's the most reckless thing you've ever done?"

"That's kind of a personal question, don't you think?" her tone was light, despite the somewhat stunned look on her face.

"It depends on what your answer is," he said coolly, returning to his work.

"It's very personal and I don't know of it's something I want to share with someone I'll probably never see again."

"That's all the more reason _to share_," he insisted.

"It's so embarrassing," she lamented, bringing her free hand to cover her face.

"You can't tease me like that. Now I _need_ to hear it."

She took a deep breath, keeping her face shielded as she spoke. "The most reckless thing I've ever done...actually happened a few days ago."

"And it was..." he prodded, anxious to hear what the seemingly nice girl had done.

"It may or not have involved me hmmmrturbating in the bathroom at work." The experience had been one that Mercedes planned on taking to her grave but Sam made her comfortable. She had to trust him a little, considering the fact that he was currently coloring her skin with a permanent ink.

"What-turbating?" he asked in disbelief, positive he hadn't heard what he thought he heard.

"Masturbating," she mumbled, turning her head and sinking further into the chair.

A slow, quiet, "Shit," was his initial reply before he added, "That is reckless."

"Thanks, that makes me feel better about it," she quipped.

"So, what did you think about?"

Her initial response was a nervous giggle as she was somewhat surprised by his boldness. "I'm not telling you that."

"Why not? You'll never see me again remember."

Again, she succumbed to the temptation that was Sam's intense stare, retelling the story she was trying desperately to forget. "I may or may not have been watching Thor during my lunch break. I started the night before and I didn't get to finish it so I took my tablet to work and then I got to that scene where's he's walking around in just those jeans and I know it's only like 30 seconds and I may have watched it 10 times and just Jesus Christ...have you seen Chris Hemsworth shirtless? Because that man's body looks _hand sculpted_."

"So that's your type, huh? Blond, muscular, Australian. Right, mate?" he chuckled in his best Australian accent, adding in a suggestive eyebrow wiggle for good measure. It was easy to get people talking once they were in the chair. He heard his fair share of tales, most of them falling into the category of way too much information and if it were anyone else sharing this particular story he probably wouldn't have cared. But he wanted to know what turned her on, what got her hot and bothered just so he could use it against her if he ever got the chance. For this girl, he'd do an Australian accent in bed in a heartbeat.

"You are silly," she giggled out, suddenly relaxed despite the situation. She was still slightly embarrassed, but for whatever reason, she didn't care. Sam was cute and he was certainly funny, if sharing a personal story was all it took to curve his lips into a smile then she'd write a book of them. Hell, she'd sell the book at Barnes and Noble if it got those thick lips of his to do other things as well.

"You seem to enjoy it."

"I do. And now, it's your turn."

"My turn for what?"

"You're not worming out of this. What is the most reckless thing you've ever done?"

"That's a tough question."

"So you're just reckless all the time?"

He shrugged, focusing on putting the final touches on the 'y' in her name, "I prefer the term "ain't shit"."

"So what's the most _ain't shit_ thing you've ever done?"

He thought for a moment, finishing up the tattoo before cleaning it off. "I don't normally think of my customers as potential sexual partners but last week this amazing looking girl came in," he looked to see her reaction. She only wore a tight smile as she waited for him to continue.

"And what? You boinked her against the register?" Mercedes knew she couldn't be mad Sam fucking anyone at all, what he did was none of her business though she didn't exactly want to hear about it. She shifted in her seat, keeping her eyes glued to her wrist as Sam allowed her to examine her arm before he bandaged it.

"Boinked? Really? But no, I didn't _boink_ her. But you should have seen her. She was wearing these tight jeans that looked like were made just for her." He took a chance, tossing his gloves aside to run a careful had up her thigh, over the tight denim he wanted to peel off. She didn't push away, only watched him closely so he decided to press his luck. "She's got hips and ass for days, and don't even get me started on the rest of her. The softest looking lips I've ever seen," he ghosted a hand up her body to rest on her chin, outlining her lips with his thumb, "breasts I just want to spend a week getting to know, and these big, intense eyes, she's incredible to look at. But you know what I really like about her?"

Her voice was quiet to the point where she could barely hear it at all. "What?"

"Her laugh. It's like Christmas bells or something, the sweetest sound I've ever fucking heard."

"She seems nice but you didn't answer the question," she insisted with a nervous smile. Mercedes tried to push away the mental list of all the things she wanted to do that just involved the large hand cupping her cheek, trying somewhat in vain to continue the conversation that she hoped would end in one very specific way.

"Well, Mercy, one of the most reckless things I've ever done is let that girl leave my shop without my phone number. But_ the most_ reckless thing I've ever done is let her come back and think that she's going to just get her nickname tattooed on her wrist and never see me again."

"Are you done?" she asked, bringing a hand to rest on his still cupping her face.

"Yep, all finished, love. It's on me, by the way, under one condition."

"What's that?"

"I get to see just how soft your lips are."

Mercedes wrestled with the thought for about a second before deciding just to go for it. She didn't hesitate, leaning up in the chair to grab his face to hers. He was warm, flushed cheeks and deeps breaths pecking against her mouth before she dominantly swiped his lips, pushing her tongue into his mouth as he parted them.

Groaning at the feel of her fingers reaching beneath his beanie to tangle into his short hair, he reached for her, pulling her out of the chair to straddle his lap without breaking the kiss. His hat was tossed aside, forgotten as he explored her mouth, drinking in her taste, hungry for more of her. His hands cupped her ass, moving her hips against his in a slow grind that did both nothing and everything for the straining cock in his jeans.

He whimpered when she pulled away suddenly, disappointed at the cool air left where her hot mouth used to be.

"Everything okay," he asked, resting his hands on her hips though they itched to slide beneath her shirt and touch the breasts pressing into his chest.

She nodded then turned to look at the large shop window. "There's a really big window there and a lot of people outside. I don't think I want to be _that_ reckless."

It hadn't occurred to Sam that they were in full view of anyone who walked down Harris Street. He was too preoccupied with getting acquainted with the plump mouth that had tortured him for the past week. Finally, he'd gotten to taste her and it only took one kiss for him to decide that he wanted more, much more.

He rose from his seat, wrapping her legs tighter around him as he carried her into the back office. The room wasn't much, only housing a few filing cabinets, a desk and most importantly at the current moment, a couch. He sat her down, hovering over her as he continued their kiss, leaning in against the small hands that found their way beneath his shirt pushing the garment up until it gathered around his neck and was pulled off.

"Look at you," she whispered tugging lightly at the silver hoop in his left nipple. Leaning in, she began a trail of slow kisses down his neck and chest while her hands raked over his torso, stopping repeatedly to yank at his belt. She waited for him to take the hint, unbuttoning and removing her shirt as he did away with his belt and subsequently his pants. An appreciative hum left her as she took in his form, lean, toned, and tattooed, but most eye-catching of all was the lump he sported in the gray boxer briefs he wore.

"You know what I've been wondering since you came in here?" he asked, kneeling between her legs, pushing his hands up her thighs and bringing them to play with the button on her jeans.

"What?" Her hips involuntarily rose toward him and she whimpered as he refused to relieve her of the denim.

He moved closer, kissing her lips before whispering, "If your panties match your bra."

_Fuck_. "And where are you going?" she asked, as he kissed his way down her middle, stopping to pull down the cups of her bra and lave deliberately over each of her taut nipples. She arched up toward him, anxious for the teasing to stop. A quickie in a back room wasn't supposed to involve this much suffering on her part and yet she loved his hands on her, the calloused palms caressing her soft skin gentle in contrast to the rough nips of skin his teeth tortured her with.

"I said I wanted to know how soft your lips were," he whispered against her belly, kissing further down until his mouth rested at the band of her pants, "but darlin' you kissed me before I could tell you which pair." He plucked open the button on her jeans, undoing the zipper to expose the matching purple panties she wore. Sam could certainly get used to this, get used to her.

Mercedes didn't consider herself a dumb girl, but it did take her longer than a few moments to register the words before she began sliding her jeans down her own thighs, letting Sam take over and toss them in the general direction of the rest of their clothing. Her legs fell apart as he moved back to her, wrapping his large hands around the back of her knees to yank her to him.

He started with gentle kisses to her inner thighs, ignoring the rolling of her hips as she tried to meet his mouth. Sam never rushed when it came to sex, and if she had somewhere to be well, that certainly wasn't his problem. He especially did not intend to break that rule with Mercedes. A body like hers deserved all the time in the world and if this would be his only opportunity to have his way with it, he was going to take as long as he damn well pleased. Moving closer, he smiled at the hitch of her breath as he kissed the growing dark spot on the front of her panties. Seconds later, the garment was wrapped around one of her ankles, and it just so happened to be the one attached to the leg slung over Sam's shoulder as he buried his face in her warmth.

"Please," she moaned, bringing two anxious hands to tease and massage her breasts as she breathed heavily, her climax approaching quickly.

Who was he to make her wait when she asked _so_ nicely?

Mercedes officially declared this the best birthday ever as Sam's tongue worked wonders between her thighs. He alternated between determined licks to her pussy and measured swipes to her clit as two fingers pushed in and out of her bending to massage her anterior wall. Surely, the grip she held on his short blond hair was painful but it couldn't have compared to the swirl of pleasure in her belly manifesting itself in a pool of cream he lapped up greedily.

Sam noticed she wasn't moving as he pulled away from her. Her body had stopped shaking and while he cleaned most of her essence from her pretty pussy, she stroked a hand through his hair but even that had stopped. He gazed up to find her with a content smile on her face, looking off into the distance as she hummed lowly.

"Are you singing the birthday song?" he asked, smiling as he recognized the tune.

"Come here," she murmured, fixing her gaze to his and reaching to bring him to her. Mercedes couldn't figure out what had brought on the sudden urge to sing the song but it was quickly forgotten when she felt Sam's weight pressed on top of her, his hips grinding into her and his lips claiming hers.

"I'm not gonna fuck you," he stated, "I don't have anything so I can't, but I plan to, one day."

She allowed him to kiss away the pout on her face, disappointed that she wouldn't get the birthday fuck she was so close to. "Let me take care of you," she insisted, pushing him into a sitting position as she took his former place on the floor, pulling out his cock that was surprisingly devoid of any modifications.

"You look disappointed," he observed, watching her wrap a warm hand around him.

"No," she replied quickly, giving the head of him a testing lick and moaning at the taste. "You have a lovely cock. I was just expecting it to be a little different is all."

"Different how?" He could barely form words as she began stroking him, his hips helping to guide him in her palm.

"I wasn't really expecting a tattoo but I thought maybe a piercing or something." Her mouth was full after that, wrapped around the dripping head of his member, slowing bobbing up and down as much of his length as she could.

He'd get ten piercings in exchange for the feel of her hot mouth and the vibrations in the back of her throat. She felt so good wrapped around him and he couldn't stop the obscenities that left his mouth freely as he fisted a hand into her hair, his body shaking as he felt the familiar stirring and tightness and his balls. She stared up at him, her big brown eyes coaxing him to come as her mouth continued to work him over, her devilish tongue swirling around him until it was covered in white. His seed, coating her lips and chin and being lapped up slowly as a smug smile brightened her face. He was on her again in a second, pressing her mouth to his as he pulled her back into his lap where she belonged.

Another bandage for her wrist was in order by the time they finished and she even hung around while Sam closed up the shop for the night, looking through his portfolio while he cleaned everything up.

"Come on," he ordered turning out the lights and finding his keys in one of the desk drawers.

"Where?"

"I'm not done with you, Mercy. You're coming back to my place." The declaration was simple in his mind. She could have left a long time ago but thankfully, she stuck around and he would make sure she didn't regret a single moment spent with him.

"Am I? Who said I wanted to do that?" she sassed, brushing past him out the front door and beginning to saunter down the street, looking over her shoulder to find that he was watching her, as she expected he would be. She couldn't let him get away with handing out orders left and right. He had to realize up front that Mercedes Jones had no plan to be anyone's pet.

He locked the door before running to catch up with her, grabbing her around her waist as he rasped into her ear, "Your pussy says so, baby. Let me give her what she wants."

"I have class in the morning," she warned, trying not to melt against the firm body pressed to her back or the hand now cupping her sex in the middle of the street.

"So what does that mean?"

"It means I have to stay in tonight." She wiggled out of Sam's hold, walking a few steps then turning to say, "It also means that if you want to continue being reckless with me, then you should probably come to my place."

He flashed another smirk, eager to comply with whatever she wanted. "Right behind you, Mercy."

* * *

**How was that? Folks on tumblr requested a part two for this one so I'm thinking of writing a little more of tattooed! Sam. Should I do a part two? _Let me know, reviews below. _**

***Also, Lilmissladytay, you got the blerd reference in the last one so we're eloping. I'll get the tickets to Vegas. You're mine now. **


	21. Always a Gesture, Never a Declaration

**Hi! One of the lovely women I'm tumblr-married to requested this for our other tumblr-wife. I'll hush now and let you all read. Enjoy!**

**_This one-shot features: Roses, love, nerves, best friends, and a Samcedes-shipping florist named Karen._**

* * *

**_They're flowers. Just flowers._**

_And it should not take you half an hour to pick out a simple bouquet of flowers, Sam Evans._

He glanced at the arrangements again in the tiny flower shop located on the corner of his street. Normally, he would pass by the shop after exchanging a brief hello to the owner if she were outside, tending to the displays or waving to him through the window but today he needed exactly what her establishment had to offer.

It was always the window that caught his eye, the depiction of a swarm of smiling bumble bees pollinating a flower-laden script that read _Karen's Flowers_ served its purpose to always catch his attention as he passed. A smile graced his own face as he walked in, his senses immediately assaulted with the vibrant colors and varying, fresh aromas.

The sound of a pair of shears hard at work caught his attention as he ambled around the entrance, immediately drawn to a large display of calla lilies, his mother's favorite flower. He glanced behind the counter to find the florist and namesake of the shop, Karen, hard at work, snipping the stems from a few flowers as she hummed a soft tune.

He didn't approach her right away, allowing her the time to finish what she was doing and allowing him the time to figure out what he wanted. Something special was in order, something sweet but also something he could use to convey the feelings bottled up within him for the past year.

After tonight, she would be well on her way to super stardom, entering the world of albums, and concerts, and adoring fans and moving toward a life that possibly wouldn't involve him. He tensed at the thought, still unable to accept the idea of not having her in his life after being friends for over a decade. She had been all his for years, and now that everyone else was surely going to notice the incredible woman who had stood by him through thick and thin, he was going to have to share her with the world. She wouldn't be just his anymore.

But he would always be hers.

A light hand on his shoulder startled him from his studying of the elegant arrangement. He turned to see Karen standing behind him, smiling brightly.

"Sam?" she asked cheerily, "How are you today?"

The first five minutes only consisted of polite conversation. His dog was healthy, her husband and children were as well, and Sam even had a favorable report regarding the young woman who was often seen walking in step with him down the quiet street.

"She's actually the reason I'm here," Sam revealed at the mention of Mercedes.

"What's the occasion?" Karen inquired, sweeping her vastly graying hair aside to show her brown eyes lighting up.

"She's performing in this showcase tonight."

"What does she do?"

Sam smiled, glad to talk about his best friend, "She's a singer, the most amazing one I've ever heard. I know she's gonna be a star one day."

"And where will that leave you?" Karen inquired, teasingly. She didn't know, she couldn't have known, that Sam had been asking himself the question all day. Mercedes wouldn't be moving away or anything, at least not to his knowledge, but her schedule would surely start to fill up even more and things like weekly dinner dates, salsa lessons, and attending Church on Sunday would probably fall by the wayside. How would she still have time for him?

"We're just friends," he said, wincing slightly at the realization. Sam wanted to be more than friends with Mercedes, but if an opportunity presented itself for him to tell her he either backed down, convincing himself he didn't want to ruin their relationship, or he'd shove the feelings away, hoping they'd subside if he ignored them. No such luck. "I'll always be there for her along the way, providing she doesn't forget about me," he mused quietly, watching as Karen tidied up a nearby bouquet. "I'll never forget about her."

"I'm not sure she could forget someone as sweet as you, dear," she complimented, patting his shoulder and ushering him toward the front counter. "So what are you in the market for, Sam?"

"I want to get her some flowers that say how proud I am of her, so something big, but I also want it to be a little romantic."

"Just a little?" Karen questioned, a bright smile parting her lips as she watched the thick blush color Sam's pale skin. "You know flowers carry a lot of meaning," she continued, "Give someone a begonia and it means they have something to watch out for. Give them marigolds for mourning, daffodils for respect, and iris's for good news. You can say so much with just a few little plants. What is it that you want to say, Sam?"

A heavy breath rushed from him as he eyed the older woman, attempting to collect his thoughts. He could write volumes of the things he wanted to say to Mercedes and aside from worrying about whether or not she even wanted to hear any of it, he also had to figure out where he was supposed to summon the courage to say any of it. He sighed, carding a hand through his formerly combed blond hair, "Is there a flower for telling your best friend that you're in love with them?"

"Love?" Karen sighed, the words ghosting past her lips in an intimate whisper only he could hear. "And you're sure?"

He nodded, matching her tone as his response immediately left him. "I've never been more sure. Mercedes - she's - she's amazing. She's smart and funny and she has the biggest heart in the world. I don't use the word lightly, hell, I rarely use it outside of family but I love her, without a doubt."

Karen listened closely as he spoke, tapping a polished nail against her chin as he finished. "Roses," she suggested quietly, immediately turning to gather the suggested flower.

"Excuse me?" Sam asked, watching the flurry of stems and petals happening before him. Karen may have had a few years on her, but her hands moved effortlessly around her work space.

"A bouquet of yellow roses," she announced primly, "Twenty three of them. She will love each and every one."

"Why yellow? And why twenty three?"

"For friendship, the basis of any relationship, dear. And we'll add one red rose in the center, for true love."

"Why twenty four?" he questioned, interrupting Karen's self-appointed assignment.

Karen turned suddenly, wistfully she said, "Twenty four roses means that she - Mercedes - is on your mind every hour of the day. That she is always with you, even if only in spirit."

"You make it sound like a fairytale?" Sam mumbled, fighting against the cheesy grin seeking to claim his face.

"Is that a bad thing?"

He shook his head, biting his lip thoughtfully before he admitted, "Not at all. It does kind of feel that way, actually. I really want a happily ever after with her."

"Believe in it, and you'll have it," Karen promised, returning to her newfound project.

Within minutes, Sam was able to leave the shop with a tightly wrapped bouquet, adorned with a large purple bow, held securely in his arms as he hailed a cab.

Soon, he was downtown, walking through the doors of a bustling nightclub after making it past the burly bouncers who waived him in after determining that he was on the precious list they held tightly between them.

As he looked for an open table, a difficult feat in the crowded room, he was able to find a spot to the left of the stage where a four-piece band played a few instrumental tunes. Nervous couldn't begin to describe what he felt; surely, there were other words, stronger words to explain the twisting in his gut and the strangely fast heartbeat in his chest.

He was right on time, though that didn't give him enough time to visit Mercedes back stage where she was probably engrossed in the vocal warm ups he loved to mock. At that moment, he'd give anything to hear her run through the scales or practice the songs she would be singing for the night, a private show just for him, and her stylist, as they helped her prepare.

He sent her a quick text, hoping that she would get it before she came to the stage and that it would calm the nerves he knew were causing her to either chew on her manicured nails or wring her hands in a never-ending gesture.

_**I'm out here waiting for you, beautiful. You're going to be amazing and I can't wait!**_

He tucked his phone back into his pocket just in time to see the lights on the stage flashing, alerting the audience to find a place to watch the upcoming show. Sam straightened in his chair, fixing his tie and running a cautious hand over the hair that probably didn't look half as good as it did when he'd left his apartment.

He let out a deep breath, listening halfheartedly to the excited young woman on the stage introducing Mercedes. Sam was already well aware of Mercy's various accomplishments; he'd been there for most of them. Every talent competition, every late night performance, every audition, meeting, and the one contract signing that promised to change her life. He was there for each win or loss, packed crowds or empty clubs, waiting outside doors he wasn't allowed behind or right by her side, holding her hand.

_All she ever had to do is ask and he was there._

_All he ever had to do was ask, and she was there._

When he quit his job at the high-price architecture firm to work on his comics full time, knowing nothing about business but wanting to start his own. She helped him plan and save money, generate contacts, and pursue his dream. There was nothing she missed, passing out on his couch many a night made sure of that and when people started to recognize his talent and learn his name, she was there with him, pulling in another friend of hers to help negotiate his contacts.

Sam smiled at the memories of being curled up in his apartment with her after a night of sketching, phone calls, and takeout. He would miss that time with her. More so, he would just miss her.

Rumbling applause brought him back to the present as he saw Mercedes taking the stage. As always, she was breathtaking, wearing a simple cream sheath dress with her hair pulled back and accented with a matching flower.

There was no more time to look around, not another moment to waste on anyone that wasn't her. She introduced herself again before speaking briefly about her first song then diving into it. Her voice lulled him into a trance-like state, causing him to sway in his seat as he listened to the heartfelt ballads she sang.

The last song was undoubtedly his favorite. She introduced it simply as "Same" before delving into the profound tune. He heard the passion in her voice, saw the tears threatening her eyes and if it wasn't for the other hundreds of people in the audience having been there, he would have waltzed up to the stage to hold her. Mercedes sang of love, of feelings deep enough to drown in and the words hit entirely too close to home for him.

_"You and I, we are, one and the same. And our hearts, they are, to blame. What is this love? What have we found? What will we do? You are the one for me and I'm the same for you."_

He held back, fought the urge to take her into his arms until the music stopped and she took a modest bow and smiled brightly at the roaring applause before leaving the stage only to be swarmed by a group of congratulatory strangers. His palms were sweaty, useless to keep the bouquet in proper order so he stayed at his table, having a drink for courage and waiting patiently until he would be able to speak with her.

Two hours later after hugs, and speeches, and well wishes, she was at his table, grabbing his hand and pulling him backstage to the dressing room where Kurt was waiting to help her into another dress for the rest of the evening. They disappeared into the en suite bathroom, leaving Sam to survey the room he noticed was already filled to the brim with flower arrangements, most of which were infinitely more intricate than the two dozen roses he clung to.

Kurt exited the bathroom, closing the door behind him to allow Mercedes to finish dressing. "Do you want me to take those from you?" he asked, gesturing toward the flowers stuck to Sam's chest.

"I want to give them to Mercedes," Sam announced, straightening himself. He knew Kurt well and knew that if he wanted a chance with Mercedes he'd certainly have to get past the scrutinizing eye of her stylist.

"So does everyone, she has a lot of admirers, you know," Kurt stated, arranging a vase full of orchids.

"How many?"

"Enough for me to form a constant fence around the girl, everyone falls in love with her, it's hard not to."

"So what is someone supposed to do if they're seriously in love with her?"

Before Kurt could answer, the bathroom door opened to reveal Mercedes in a simple black dress with halter straps and a flowing bottom, cinched at the waist with a gold belt to match the pumps she wore.

"You ready for dinner?" she asked, twirling to make the hem of her dress flutter. He felt slightly underdressed in a charcoal slacks and a black button-up but then again, he never looked as goo as her, even on his best day. Sam could only nod as she came to him, hugging him tightly and taking the roses he pushed in her direction without words. She thanked him with a kiss on the cheek and instructed Kurt to put the flowers in water before bidding her friend goodbye and exiting the club on Sam's arm.

Plenty of people were disappointed that she had chosen to leave the party a little early but Sam hoped the intimate dinner he planned for the two of them would be well worth her time.

Over a dinner of sushi and a few drinks they talked and laughed and spoke excitedly about what the future held but in the back of Sam's mind was the nagging thought that she had barely even looked at the bouquet. It was supposed to be his opener, something to start them on the conversation of flowers and the meanings behind him and now he was stuck with a speech about roses that ended with him telling her he was in love with her with no elegant way to deliver it.

**_So many flowers. What am I supposed to do with all of these?_**

_I only have to water them I guess and give them light. How hard can it be? You can do this, Mercedes._

It was supremely hard for Mercedes to keep the few flower arrangements she decided to decorate her home with alive and well for a few days. Kurt gave her specific instructions for each but the schedule of watering, preening, and turning was something she simply did not have time for. Soon, only the carnations and roses were left and the roses weren't in great shape. They were wilting, the soft, bright yellow petals crusting at the edges, and wafting daintily to the floor in the foyer of her apartment. It wasn't until Kurt barged in, complaining about the mess of "flower debris" at her front door that she noticed the still vibrant touch of red in the sea of yellow.

"Someone loves you," Kurt sang, pulling the single red rose from the vase the flowers were wedged in and offering it to her.

Mercedes shook her head, taking the rose, "I don't think so, these flowers are from Sam." She couldn't allow herself to think that the friendly gesture was any more than that. He was proud of her and wanted to congratulate her. In the same way, she purchased a watch Sam had his eye on for months inscribing it with a simple line of text:

_With all my love_

It didn't mean anything, at least that's what she told herself when he only smiled at the inscription and she lost the nerve to tell him what it really should have meant. Both of these things were just gestures, she told herself, little actions from the heart but with no romantic feeling behind them and convincing herself of that would get her through another day.

"Oh, well then, what I meant to say is Sam loves you," Kurt corrected with a smug smirk.

"You say it as if you were telling me the weather. _It's sunny today and Sam is in love with me_," she mocked nervously, "How does that not sound strange to you?" It didn't sound entirely strange to her, she wanted nothing more than to able to make that same declaration but her mind and her mouth wouldn't allow it. The words were on her lips on a daily basis but they were always cut short, halted the moment she realized what saying them would mean.

"Because I know what love looks like and you've been draped in it for months, sweetie. Every dress, every shade of lipstick, every spritz of perfume, they all carry that extra layer, that love. You can't take it off, Mercy, you're stuck with it."

"I don't know what you mean," she lied, moving into the apartment, clutching the rose in her palm as she sat down. Even if she had already told Kurt how she felt, a middle of the week confession of love didn't sit well with her. She hadn't seen Sam since last Saturday and she knew he was busy, hard at work with the final issue of his first comic book series and the graphic novel he was commissioned to illustrate. It would be rude of her to interrupt that.

Kurt crossed the room, taking a seat on the coffee table to take her hands in his. "Tell him," he insisted.

"I'm sure he's working right now," she deflected with another firm shake of her head. "He normally works all day and I don't want to mess up his schedule."

Shrugging Kurt said, "It can wait until five o' clock but he needs to know and you need to get it off your chest."

"What do I say?"

"I can't tell you that. You have to figure out for yourself."

"What's going to happen to our relationship?"

"I can't tell you that either. But you'll never know if you keep it to yourself."

"I love him, Kurt, and I don't want to mess up what we have."

"You know there are all types of love, Mercedes. And just because you're attached to one doesn't mean you don't feel another."

"I don't know where you're going with this."

"Listen up, honey," Kurt said curtly, capturing her full attention, "Just because you _love_ Sam doesn't mean you can't or shouldn't be _in love_ with him. In fact, loving someone is a necessary step to being _in love_. You can't have one without the other and the relationship won't work unless you do. But you have that and I see no reason for you not to pursue this with him."

"I don't know if I can. He didn't even notice the song the other night was for him, about him."

"How was he supposed to know?"

"I don't know. But I just don't know if this is the right time to go through with all of this. I had all of this confidence but it left me the moment I pulled him backstage. I forgot what I wanted and I was just happy that he was there. I don't want to lose that."

"If not now, then when, Mercedes?" Kurt asked, his voice softening, "When you're gallivanting around the country for six months at a time? Or when you win that Grammy? Or how about when you get that mansion in the Hollywood hills?"

"I don't know if any of that stuff is going to happen."

"Oh, it will, because you work hard enough to ensure that it will. So if you want this thing with Sam to happen then you have to put in that same work."

"What if I-"

"You won't."

"What if he-"

"He won't. And if he does, I have his address and I know how to pick a lock."

"Okay," she agreed with a nod.

"Just okay?"

"Yeah, I have to stop hedging and just do it. I want him and I'm kinda sure that he wants me and if he doesn't then I'll just have to deal with that. But if I don't say something, I'll regret it."

"Good, I'm glad we're done arguing, honey. Now let's go pick you out something nice to wear."

They settled on a simple sundress, crimson colored with a golden sweater and bronze heeled sandals.

"You look lovely, Mercy. Now go get your man!" Kurt instructed, pushing her out of the door and walking with her downstairs to grab a cab.

_All she had to do was knock and she couldn't even bring herself to do that._

_All he had to do was call her, and he couldn't even bring himself to do that._

"Mercedes!" Sam called down the hall once he noticed her heading toward the elevator in his apartment building. He was heading down to check his mail, stalling to not make the phone call that had him in a nervous sweat when he was treated to the sight of his friend's retreating backside.

"Sam," she said, turning to greet him brightly, "I was just in the neighborhood."

"And you weren't going to come and see me? I thought we were friends, Mercy," he said with a shake of his head.

"We are, I just remembered that you're probably still working and I didn't want to interrupt."

"You're always welcome. Come in for a visit, I promise I won't keep you all night."

She nodded, taking his hand and walking back to his place. He closed the door behind him, running to tidy up the mess of papers in his living room.

"Don't clean up on account of me. I've seen your place much worse than this," she stated with a giggle.

"Right," he said, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously.

Silence fell between them as Sam plopped down onto the couch, watching at Mercedes stood in front of him wringing her hands and refusing to sit down. He could tell something was bothering her immediately. It was never this awkward between them.

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

"Yep," she answered quickly, "I'm fine."

"Then why don't you sit down?"

"I'm okay here."

"My couch doesn't have cooties, Mercy. You should know that, we've both slept on it before."

"Did you like my songs the other night?" she asked suddenly.

He nodded as he honestly admitted, "I loved them."

"Which one was your favorite?"

"The last one, it was called "Same" right?"

She took a deep breath, breaking their eye contact to stare at her still wringing hands, "It's not actually called "Same"," she admitted. "The original title for it was S-A-M space E."

"Sam E?"

"Yeah," she affirmed, looking up to him again.

"Me?" he asked, standing up and walking toward her.

"You. I wrote it for you, it's your song and I was too much of a coward to tell you. But here I am, standing in your apartment and the words - they're there and I want to say them but I know that if I say them-"

"We can't go back," he finished, stepping closer until he was directly in front of her. One deep breath and they'd be flush against one another.

"I don't want to go back, but I don't want us to change. I still want to be your best friend."

"Mercedes, you always will be and us admitting to how we feel isn't going to affect that."

"How _we_ feel?"

"The roses. You tried to tell me with the song and I tried to tell you with the roses but we both apparently suck at this."

"We do."

"But that's okay because we're in this together. You think I'm going to stop making you breakfast every Saturday morning, or skip our movie marathons, or stop begging you to dress up like Black Widow for Halloween so I can finally be Hawkeye."

"You don't need me to be Black Widow," she said with a genuine laugh.

"But I want you to be. The costume won't be the same without you. You're always going to be that missing piece."

"Always?"

"Always. Mercedes I-"

"Sam, I love you," she blurted out, surprising herself as the words rushed from her.

"What was that?" he asked, bringing his hands to cup her face and stare into her chestnut colored eyes.

"I love you," she repeated quietly.

"One more time," he urged, moving his face to hover over hers, allowing them to share the same breath as her words washed over him.

"I love you, you sweet, adorable, funny, caring, crazy, walking piece of dork, I love you. "Waaaait," she said pushing him away as he leaned in for a kiss, "your turn."

He kissed her forehead, "I love you." Kissed her nose, "I love you." And finally, kissed her lips, "I love you."

The kiss was just a lingering peck, something to cement the declarations they each made. But it soon turned into something more. It turned into Mercedes moaning into the kiss as she tangled her fingers in his hair and into Sam wrapping his arms around Mercedes, rubbing down her back until he had two handfuls of her soft behind, bunching up her dress and teasing her soft skin with his fingertips.

"Am I allowed to love _on_ you?" he asked, separating from her lips when they each needed a breath.

"You didn't have to tell me you loved me for us to do that. If that was all you wanted-"

"It's not," he assured her. "I want all of you, Miss Jones, every single piece."

"I want all of you too."

"I'm already yours."

He pressed her forehead to his, repeating his declaration before claiming her lips in another tender kiss. Any hesitance within him melted away the moment she parted her mouth, allowing his tongue to tangle with hers.

His bed seemed too far away as their clothing left their bodies slowly while they navigated their way to his room, still attached to one another at the lips and only breaking to remove his t-shirt. By the time the back of her knees hit the edge of his bed, they were down to nothing more than their underwear.

"Lay down," he instructed, stepping back to take in her curvy form as she settled herself against the pillows on his bed. His heart was racing, ready to spring from his chest and though he wanted this more than anything he was glued to his current position, mouth dry and mind blank at the sight of her ready and waiting for him.

"Come," she ordered softly, beckoning him with a curled finger. He followed her direction, kissing his way up her thighs, over her soft belly, and past her breasts before coming to her lips again, taking the plump bottom one into his mouth to suck it gently.

"I want you so bad," he rasped, swallowing the moan pushing its way out of her.

She threaded her fingers into his short locks, bringing his face back to hers for another kiss. "I want you too, Sammy," she purred, wrapping a leg around him and grinding against the front of his boxer briefs.

He was already hard, just the feel of her lips and her skin against his was enough to get him there. And he hardened further at the thought of actually being inside of her, pressing into the heated area rubbing against him teasingly.

"Make love to me," she whispered, cupping his face in her hands and gazing at him with the big brown, heavily lidded eyes that could get him to do just about anything.

He nodded, taking her lips once more then trailing them down her soft body. His hands found a place of their own, massaging her breasts, tracing his fingers around her taut nipples and removing her bra. She allowed him to explore, to lave his tongue slowly over her sepia-toned skin, as one hand occupied itself with caressing the breast that wasn't being properly worshiped by his mouth and the other trailed down her body to graze the front of her damp panties.

She shuddered when she felt his fingers brush her clit, attempting to ignore the desire to roll on top of him and sink herself down onto the turgid cock rubbing against her thigh. Arching her hips, she tried to move against it, to nonverbally urge him into doing what her pulsing core ached for.

"We have all day, baby," he grumbled against her belly with a mischievous grin as he kissed down to her hipbone. "Relax and let your Sammy love on you proper."

That was easier said than done for Mercedes. The thick lips sucking her button through her thin panties made the fight hard. Her stomach was already tightening, anxiously awaiting what the fingers dragging lazily against the band of her underwear would do.

"Sam, please," she mumbled, bucking slightly when a deep chuckle vibrated against her. After flashing another smile, he finally rolled her panties down, pressing his lips to her the moment the fabric hit the floor.

"Is this what you want, baby?" he asked, giving her a firm lick from slit to clit. He took her resonant moan as a yes, pressing his tongue against her for several more deep swipes. His fingers joined his mouth, pushing inside of her warmth to gently stroke her delicate flesh. He sat back on his heels allowing his fingers to continue to work her as he watched her, adding a thumb to circle her clit in time to the thrusting of her hips.

"I-I-I'mgunna-" she breathed, gripping his wrist to keep him stroking the same exact spot as her climax began ripple through her.

His name, she was shouting it now as she coated his fingers with her release. He was quickly back between her legs, hungrily lapping up the thick, sticky cream she offered.

Mercedes couldn't think of a single thing to say as Sam kissed his way back up to her lips after treating her center to a thorough tongue bath. Her mouth opened and closed repeatedly, trying to form the right words to say to the green-eyed man hovering above her with glistening lips curled into a satisfied smirk. The only thing she could think to do was kiss him, tasting herself as she slipped her tongue past his lips. Her hands took on a life of their own, reaching between them to slide into Sam's briefs and wrap around his hardness.

"I just want to be inside of you, Mercy," he groaned against her neck, thrusting his hips into her palm. "Do you want me inside of you?"

"Uh-huh," she whimpered, pushing his underwear over his ass so he could kick his way out of them as she continued to stroke him.

"Say it right, babe," he insisted, reaching into his bedside table for a condom and handing it to her to put on.

"Yes, Sammy, yes," she hissed, gripping his sheathed cock and rubbing it against her slick center.

One swift push and he was there, buried inside of her with no intention of leaving any time soon. He took things slow, interlacing their fingers and gripping her hand tighter with every thrust as he rolled his hips into her repeatedly. Over time, he picked up speed as she wrapped her legs around him and allowed him to plunge deeper inside of her. He could feel the sweat gathering at the small of his back and dampening his forehead as he pressed it against hers, kissing her and swallowing the moans pushing past her lips. She was beautiful, trembling and whimpering beneath him as she pushed herself onto him, matching his rhythm and intensity.

Admittedly, Mercedes imagined this moment plenty of times, but nothing she fathomed could come close to the feel of Sam's weight on top of her, his normally stiff form melding with hers. She shouldn't be coming again so quickly, but watching him bite his bottom lip as he focused on pleasing both of them and the feel of his racing pulse as she pressed a hand to his chest to ground herself was her undoing.

His stomach tightened at the feeling her walls clenching around him. He was there, ready to come but he held off, burying his face in her neck and bringing his fingers to stroke her clit, sending her over the edge into a screaming breathless state as he yielded to her, filing the condom between them with a roar and a few final jerks of his hips.

She stroked his hair lovingly, returning the "I love you," he planted against her skin as he placed small kisses across her face before shifting off her and pulling her to lie in his arms.

"Sam," she said, breaking the comfortable silence between them, "I don't know what the future holds," she began, grazing her fingers over his torso. "I don't know where I'm going to be six months, six weeks, or even six days from now. All I know is that I want you there with me. Always."

He grabbed her hand, locking her fingers with his and kissing her forehead. "I'll be there, Mercy. Always," he promised, pulling her tighter as they each succumbed to heavy eyelids and the somber sleep that followed.

* * *

_Judging by the response to the last one (I love reading all the reviews by the way, you all crack me up), part II of tatted!Sam is a go. Right now, I'm participating in Samcedes week on tumblr and I'm trying to complete a one-shot for all seven days so that's my current focus. But once I have time (and after I do some fic updating), I'll post part II here. _

**How was this one? Did you enjoy Samcedes and their little awkward love confessions? Let me know, reviews below. **


	22. Stretch & Release

**Wow. Been a while, right? Where have I been? Around. You know, just lazing about and being shiftless. The usual. Anyway, someone on tumblr requested a yoga-related one-shot. Enjoy!**

_**This one-shot features: Saturday morning yoga classes, spaghetti, hardwood floors, and a little Samtana bromance. **_

* * *

If the loud banging on his front door wasn't enough to wake him up, the booming voice echoing loudly in the hallway was just the thing to do the trick.

Sam rolled out of bed with a groan, knocking his covers to the floor as he trudged out of his dimly lit bedroom. Not even the sunshine peeking through his curtains was an incentive for him to get up. It was Saturday and for Sam that meant, if nothing else, he should at least get to sleep in. However, the arrhythmic banging at his front door wouldn't stop and he was forced to address it after a pillow over his head and curling into a tight ball wasn't enough to drown out the persistent sound.

"Lady Lips, if you do not answer this door right now I am going to knock the fucking thing down!"

_Santana_

A few crooked steps later and Sam was at his front door, yanking it open to find his best friend with a scowl on her face and her hands placed firmly on her slender hips. It wasn't like Santana to be up at such an hour unless she was trying to escape a mistake from the night before and had to make a run from her own apartment to convince her lover of the moment that she actually had some place to be. Sam returned her scowl, opening his mouth to ask her just what she was doing at his place so early and what exactly had happened to her key; but before he could get a word in, she was pushing past him and beginning a determined path to his kitchen.

"You better have something to eat in here," she called over her shoulder, ignoring the commonplace greetings of 'Hello' or 'Good morning' that most people would offer.

Sam rolled his eyes, closing the door and following behind her to the kitchen. "Why are you even here?" he asked, hopping up onto the counter to watch her scouring his fridge before coming out with a container of store-bought potato salad. It wasn't enough for her to interrupt his sleep, she was also hell bent on finishing his leftovers after she sniffed the clear plastic container to determine the side dish edible.

"Didn't know I needed an invitation," she shrugged, digging out a spoon to shove a helping of the salad into her mouth. "I need coffee. And toast. If you don't have bread, Sam, we are going to have a problem." She sat the container down, quickly finding the half loaf of whole wheat parked beside his cereal boxes. She helped herself to two slices, placing them in the toaster before returning to the potato salad and taking another healthy portion.

"It's Saturday, and it's only nine o clock," he reminded her, brushing his hand over his face, attempting to work himself out of his sleepy haze.

"Which means you have just enough time to get dressed," she murmured through her mouthful.

"For?"

"Remember that time when that show tune-obsessed brunette chick was stalking you?" Santana asked, going back into his fridge for butter and his half carton of orange juice.

"Yeah-"

"And remember how I told her I'd take a razor blade to every single hideous sweater she owned if she didn't leave you alone."

Sam was too tired for games. His sleep was ruined for a reason he didn't understand and the riddles Santana insisted on speaking in weren't doing anything to brighten his mood. He leaned back against the wall, sighing and waiting for Santana to make her point. "Where are you going with this, San?"

"Well, Mr. Grumpy Bear," Santana sassed, picking up on his displeased tone and flipping her dark ponytail over her shoulder, "Remember that you owe me one. And today, I'm here to collect."

"What do you want?" Sam asked with a sigh, already anticipating how much of his day the probably inconvenient favor would cost him. "I'm not attending any more of your family reunions."

"No, it's simpler than that and doesn't involve any of my aunts groping you," she promised excitedly, offering him a slice of her toast.

He took it begrudgingly, narrowing his eyes at her as he questioned, "What is it?"

"I signed us up for yoga class. It starts in an hour and a half."

Sam shook his head, pushing himself off the counter with a stern, "No."

"You owe me, Sam," Santana insisted, brandishing a spoonful of potato salad in his direction. "But I did see your former stalker in the supermarket the other week. And I still remember where she lives. I'm sure she'd _love_ to know how you are."

"You're a terrible friend," Sam mumbled, finishing his toast and heading back toward his bedroom.

"And you have terrible taste in friends."

After a shower and throwing on a pair of sweats and t-shirt, Sam was waiting in Santana's car, taking the opportunity to try to catch up on some of his missed sleep while she ran in a Starbucks.

Even with his eyes squeezed tight, he couldn't fall back asleep, completely unable to stop thinking about just how he'd look in a yoga class. Probably like some desperate perv looking for an opportunity to ogle a class full of women. He didn't want to be _that_ guy, and at the thought of anyone assuming him to be less than the gentleman he was raised as, he was scowling again, fixing his mouth to order Santana to take him back home as she slid into the driver's seat with two containers.

"I got you tea. You look like you could use it."

"Thanks," he grumbled, taking the beverage with a tight smile.

"I really appreciate you coming with me, Sam," Santana confessed, her voice much softer than he was used to hearing. "I promise you it won't be so bad. It's only for a couple of weeks and you live at the gym anyway, pasty Adonis. It'll be fun." The smile she flashed was genuine enough to relax him somewhat as they continued their drive to the gym.

"Are there any guys in the class?" Sam asked, breaking the silence between them as he stared out the window.

"Maybe only one or two, which is perfect for both of us."

"Won't it be awkward for me to be the only guy there?"

"You said you wanted to meet a nice girl; there are plenty in the yoga class, I'm sure. I met this really cute girl when I signed up," Santana shared as she pulled into an empty parking space. "Maybe she has a friend."

"That makes me sound creepy, going to yoga class to pick up chicks."

"Don't think about it that way; just think of yourself as my wingman."

"So, I'm just there to help _you_ get chicks."

"Exactly, Trouty."

Sam could only shake his head as they made their way to the clear front doors of Stone Fitness where Santana stopped suddenly, grabbing his arm and turning him to face her. "Look, I'll make a deal with you. If you _really_ hate yoga then you don't have to come back."

"Just say that you needed me, San," Sam teased, grinning smugly at Santana's offer. He could take the demanding, bossy Santana but Sam would always admit that her more compassionate side was what kept their friendship alive.

"I don't need you, jerk. Some things are just easier to do with a partner."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go before I change my mind."

Santana seemed exactly right about the demographic breakdown of the class. It was mostly women with two straggling guys positioned near the front who had already begun their own spirited stretching.

"How much yoga am I supposed to know how to do?" Sam whispered to Santana, grabbing a mat to borrow for the session and turning his eyes back to the limber male duo.

"It's a beginner's class. I'll go easy on you." Sam jumped at the voice coming from his other side. He turned to see a short, sepia-skinned woman smiling warmly at him, her own mat tucked beneath her arm.

"Hi," he mumbled, suddenly losing himself in her round brown eyes.

"Hi," she returned, her smile widening. "I'm Mercedes. I'll be your instructor."

"Uh-I-I-um-"

Santana shoved Sam in his side, moving him away and offering a hand to Mercedes, "I'm Santana, or San, or Tana, or whatever really and the one with his mouth hanging open, that's Sam."

"Nice to meet you both. Sam and San, that's really cute but I bet you get that all the time. You know, we don't get many couples in this class."

Sam found his voice again, waving a hand between Mercedes and Santana to interject, "We're not together!"

"Oh," she replied, her face furrowing. "Sorry I assumed."

"Been there, done that," Santana mused quietly with a disgusted look on her face. Sam wanted to return the look but with Mercedes' curious eyes on him, he felt the need to be as pleasant as possible. Something about her made him want to smile, to be agreeable. Immediately, he wanted to impress her.

"Well, I better go start the class," she said, retreating from the suddenly silent friends. "I see a few spots open up front if you guys want to come up."

"We'll be there in a second," Sam assured her before turning to Santana once Mercedes was out of earshot and engaging with a few other people. "Did you really have to say that?"

"What?" she asked, brushing off his concerns. "We only lasted like a month, dude. 'Twas no more than a fling between two young things."

"Okay, but _she_doesn't know that," Sam said, gesturing toward a giggling Mercedes a few feet away.

"Why does it matter what she knows?"

"It doesn't," he returned quietly.

Santana's eyes lit up, offset by the large grin curling her lips. "You think she's cute don't you?"

"Shut up, San."

"She is," Santana confirmed. "I'd tap that, repeatedly. If you don't want her though, Sam, I'll see if she swings my way."

"That's not what I'm here for Santana."

"Sam," Santana began, placing hand on his shoulder, "Sometimes you go to the store and you're only there to pick up batteries because your vibrator conked out and you're like 'Okay, what the fuck? I'm horny as hell and my fingers ain't doing it'. So you end up in Walmart at like 2 a.m., buying batteries and all of a sudden, BAM! you see this really awesome shade of lipstick. Now, you didn't come to Walmart for lipstick. You came for _batteries_. But are you just going to leave the lipstick there, knowing full well that you may never see it again?"

"This example is way too specific."

"Hell no!" Santana exclaimed, slapping his shoulder roughly. "You **buy that shit**. And you don't think twice about it."

"I don't even remotely know what your point is."

"You are hopeless," she sighed with a shake of her head. "All I'm saying is, just because you didn't come to yoga class to make a new _friend_ doesn't mean you can't make a new _friend_in yoga class."

"Why didn't you just say that in the first place?"

"Good morning, everyone," Mercedes greeted as if on cue, waiting for Sam and Santana to take their spots before she continued. "I know pretty much all of you and I'm glad to see all of your faces again on this lovely Saturday. We have two newbies joining us. Everyone say hello to Sam and Santana."

"Wooh!" cheered a blond from the back. "It's nice to finally get a guy in this class," she said, fist bumping the dark haired girl next to her.

"That's the girl I met when I signed up," Santana whispered, pointing discreetly toward the darker haired woman. "The Asian one, isn't she cute? I'm pretty sure she was flirting with me."

"Hey!" one of the two guys shouted, "We resent that. Just because we're gay, it doesn't mean we're not guys."

"Retracted," the blond said, holding her hands up in surrender, "And amended to say: it's nice to have a guy in this class that isn't married to another guy."

He glanced to his partner, receiving an affirming nod from the pale man. "We'll take it," he said with a deep nod of his own.

"Glad everyone is happy," Mercedes teased, clapping her hands to bring the focus back to the front of the large space. "Now I'd like to do a little yoga if that's okay with y'all."

The hoots erupting from the room were soon silenced as everyone turned to their full attention to the front of the room.

Mercedes did as she promised, taking her time as she moved through the beginning poses and explaining everything as she went along. They began on all fours, stretching their spines and learning to control their breathing. Gradually, they moved to standing poses that really gave Sam an opportunity to stretch his long limbs. None of it was too difficult, though Sam received a hefty amount of teasing from the more limber guys in his row who he learned were named Kurt and Blaine. His body wasn't exactly built for so much bending, not in this way. Not without any _payoff_.

The instructor is what really made the session worthwhile for Sam. She was patient and sweet, proving herself a perfect addition to the calming atmosphere. Sam hadn't felt this relaxed in a long time, only tensing up when she placed a helpful hand on his knee to help him deepen his lunge position. Something shot through him when she touched him, her warm palm heating him noticeably. He shook it off, figuring the room to be too hot and continued through the rest of the session without incident.

By the end of the class, as everyone sat in silence during the savasana, Sam felt like a completely different person. All of the stress in his body seemed to have melted away as he lie on his thin mat. He turned his head to Santana, smiling when he noticed the relieved expression she wore. She shot him a wink before closing her eyes and returning to her silence.

_Maybe he would come back next week. _

One Saturday turned into two. Two turned into four and before Sam knew it, he was doing garland, cobbler, and bridge poses in his sleep. In addition to perfecting his already advanced pelvic tilts. That is, any sleep he was able to acquire if he wasn't thinking about the well rounded ass, thick lips, and alluring giggle belonging to one particular yoga instructor. She shouldn't have disrupted his dreams the way she did but she would always find some way to creep into his thoughts.

It didn't help that Santana had started seeing the woman from their class, Tina, who happened to be a close friend of hers. The more time the new couple spent together, the more time Sam had to hear about Mercedes. If he had to spend another evening hearing Tina gush about just how great her best friend was he'd have a coronary. If she wasn't being spoken about there was a text message from her, a picture, anything to remind him of her presence in the world and the fact that she wasn't his, that she couldn't be his because he still didn't want to be _that_ guy.

"Sam, what do you think of these shoes?" Tina asked, flashing her cell phone at Sam as they stood outside the movie theater on a Saturday night, waiting for Santana. "She wants to know if she should get them. I think she should get them and get me a pair too. Look at these."

Sam gulped as his eyes met Mercedes' small foot in a death-defying heel. The thing was red, with a strap around the ankle and as he moved up the photo, getting a glimpse of her legs in the waist down shot he mumbled, "Tell her to get those. Then wear them to class," pushing Tina's phone away to stop the pounding in his chest.

_He had to have her._ He'd be _that_ guy if it meant that he could be her guy.

"Is there any way that I could have a private lesson, just you and I?" Sam asked after his sixth Saturday class in a row. It had become his custom to help Mercedes return all of the mats at the end of class as he waited for Santana to chat up Tina. They would talk every week. Sometimes for just few minutes, other times for almost an hour but no matter how long the time, he'd always leave with a smile on his face and a light feeling in his body.

Mercedes paused, tightening her grip on the mat she held. "Are you asking me on a date or are you asking me to come to your apartment and teach you poses?"

"Can't it be both?" Sam asked with a sheepish grin. "I could make you dinner. My spaghetti is legendary."

"I think we should do it at my place," Mercedes suggested after a moment of thought. I have a pretty big living room and we could push back the couches and really stretch out."

"I'll bring the groceries."

"Good. Be ready to work when you get there," she advised with a grin and toss of her hair that made his dick twitch.

After the longest trip to the grocery store in his life, Sam found himself at Mercedes' front door, smoothing his hair nervously and taking a few of the deep breaths she'd taught him how to do so well. He pondered going back to the grocery store, wondering whether or not he should have picked up a meatless sauce or if she preferred garlic bread over bread sticks. _Idiot_. He really should have asked her these kinds of questions. Though it wasn't likely he would have remembered the answers anyway. Sam was surprised he even managed to make it to the grocery store and to her apartment without bursting into a sprint at any moment. He couldn't focus on anything; at this point, he still wasn't sure how he had even made it to her door in the first place.

With another deep breath, he pushed the thoughts away, promising himself to try and make the best of whatever was in his groceries bags. He wouldn't show her how nervous he was. He would cook, they'd have an amazing evening, and at the end of it, she would want to see him again. That was the plan. All he could do now is pray that it worked.

Mercedes answered shortly after he rapped on the door, wearing her trademark toothy smile until she glanced at his attire. "Either you changed the plan or you brought a change of clothes somewhere in those bags," she remarked, her eyes caught on his pants and the jeans he wore.

He shifted slightly, balancing the weight of the bags in his hands. "Did I need to do either?"

"I thought we were doing yoga," she reminded him. "Most people don't do it in jeans."

Sam bit his bottom lip, unsure of what to say. He was so busy trying to gather everything and so excited about spending the evening with Mercedes, he had completely forgotten that he was there under the pretense of possibly doing _some_ yoga.

"You know," she began, taking the groceries from him, "Sometimes I do poses in my undies, or even naked if the mood strikes me. And since you don't have anything to change into-"

"I'd love to do naked yoga with you," Sam finished with a smirk and involuntarily lick of his lips.

"_I _have gym clothes, honey. Only _you_will be doing naked yoga," she corrected, backing away from the door. "I'll be doing tank top and leggings yoga."

"Well that's not really fair," he mumbled through a grin, taking her declaration as a challenge.

"No one told you to wear jeans," she shrugged, returning the grin with a playful glint in her eyes Sam would recognize anywhere.

"Fine," he replied nonchalantly, beginning to peel himself out of his t-shirt in her hallway, tossing the garment at her once he lifted it off his head.

"Get in here!" she squealed, reaching out to yank his arm and pull him over the threshold. She was laughing as she closed the door behind him. "You are a mess."

"So you prefer it in the living room?" he said with a nod, reveling in the sweet sound of her giggles, "I can work with that."

Biting back another laugh she insisted, "Let's start cooking. You can keep your clothes on for that."

The shirt was already off but Sam decided he could at least keep his pants on as he followed her to the kitchen. Her apartment was a tad larger than his, with very high ceilings and decorated in an array of warm colors. He heard music the moment he entered the kitchen courtesy of the iPod deck on her counter, a similar staple in his own home. If the concerts he heard about her going to with Tina were any indication of her music taste, he knew she liked R&B and the crooning coming through the speakers certainly confirmed that.

"Since your spaghetti is _legendary_, I'll let you have run of the kitchen," she stated, moving around to pull out various pots, pans, and utensils. "I'm just going to sit here and enjoy the view if that's okay with you."

"You'll get a better view if you let me take my pants off," he flirted, knowing he was probably laying it on a little thicker than necessary.

She kept cool, allowing only the brightening of her eyes to show proof of his effect on her. "Pants on until it's time for yoga," she ordered, taking a seat on one of the bar stools across from him.

"Yes, ma'am."

Yoga time couldn't come fast enough for Sam. Mercedes declined his suggestion to start while they waited for the noodles to cook, insisting that he should begin making his sauce. After five minutes of laughter, a lecture reprimanding him for having the gall to bring a jar of _canned sauce_ into _her_ kitchen, and a very detailed tutorial on how to make a decent sauce from scratch, the two finally found themselves pushing back the couches in her living room and rolling up the large area rug while their meal simmered. Sam was happy to be out of the confined space of the kitchen. If he bumped into Mercedes one more time while they maneuvered over their dinner, his hard body brushing against her unbelievably soft one, he would take her right there. Bent over the counter tops, on the floor, on the table, against the fridge or anywhere else stable enough for what he had planned.

"Keeping those on?" Mercedes asked, invading his thoughts as she tugged playfully on his belt loop.

"Just say you want a peek at my package. There's no shame in that," he teased, loosening his belt and slipping out of his sneakers before dropping his jeans to the floor.

"I was actually more interested in your butt," she admitted casually, leaning backwards to observe his rear in the boxer briefs he wore. "I can't really stare at in class but I can ogle you all I want tonight. It's really nice," she complimented.

He wanted to tell her that she could touch it. Grab it, smack it, do whatever her little hands wanted but instead, a shy, "You want to ogle me?" pushed out of him.

She nodded, "You've got a nice butt."

"Yours is better," he declared, regaining his boldness. "But you can do more to me than just ogle me."

"More as in?" she asked, taking a small step to stand in front of him. The height difference was almost comical but dammit if she didn't feel _perfect_pressed against him just the way she was.

Sam took a deep breath, pushing their chests together, and grasped her hip firmly to guide her lower half flush against his. Already, he was half hard and he wanted her to feel it. He wanted to press himself against her softness and just grind for days. Instead, he settled for a single thrust of his hips into hers, almost choking on the groan that tried to slip out. "As in," he began in a deep growl, "We could have cleared these couches out for yoga or for me to lay on my back while you ride me into next week."

"I like the second thing," she replied in a throaty whisper, "but you promised me spaghetti."

"You'll get it," he promised, leaning down to place a hot kiss against her neck. "It might be reheated, but you'll get it."

"What else do I get?"

"Anything you want, beautiful."

"Okay," she said, tugging his hair and pulling him away from her. "Well I want your undies off and then I want you in corpse pose."

Sam followed directions eagerly, tossing his jeans and boxers to the side before lying flat on his back on the hardwood floor.

Mercedes circled him, her eyes dancing over his toned form as she drank him in. He felt like prey in the middle of the floor. Open and vulnerable...and..._hard as a fucking rock._ The way she smirked at him while she stared him down had his dick waving with anticipation. He wanted her on top of him immediately. The torture would fucking kill him.

Finally, she broke her silence and eased her stare. "Not bad," she commended. "I can't tell you how proud I am that you knew the position without thinking about it."

"I have a good teacher."

She crossed her arms across her ample chest, quirking a shaped black eyebrow at him. "Just good?"

"She'd be great if she wasn't wearing so much clothing right now," he grunted, resisting the urge to yank her down to his level.

"I guess we can fix that."

Mercedes stripped out of her tank top and leggings, leaving her down to her sports bra and matching undies and all Sam could do was stare while she undressed offering an appreciative hum with every item of clothing she removed. She moved to her knees, gliding her fingers up Sam's chest as she leaned down to take his lips. His body felt cold in comparison to her warm hand and he couldn't stop the nervous tremble and shaky breaths that began when she leaned in to kiss him.

He could have died from the feeling of her lips pressing to his, soft and delicate against his tongue as he flicked it out to taste her. She parted her plump lips for him and he slipped his tongue past the small opening. _Shit_. She tasted like everything he ever wanted and nothing he could ever have.

"Fuck," he groaned against her mouth, swallowing the giggles that escaped her after his outburst. He reached for her, pulling her into him, never separating their lips as his hands went to work on her soft body. Her ass was first. Two handfuls of it and a few delicate smacks to her cheeks that made her moan with every pop of his hand over her bare skin. She moved her lips from his to take a breath and he immediately went for her neck, nipping and sucking her skin, unable to take being separated from her.

"Lay back," she ordered sweetly, pushing him gently with her fingertips.

"Unt uh," he grumbled, placing a firm bite near her pulse point then kissing the spot after. "I'm not done kissin' you."

"You'll get to kiss me more in a minute. Now lay back," she repeated, "I want to kiss you...elsewhere."

He did as he was told, keeping his hands on her backside just to feel some part of her attached to him.

Hovering over him for a moment she said, "You have really beautiful eyes."

"So do you," he replied. "Everything about you is jus-"

Before Sam could find the right word, Mercedes' lips were on his again, but only for a moment as she began a torturous trail down his body. Soft, lingering kisses to his chin, neck, chest, and abdomen had Sam's breathing heavy. She stopped at his abs, nuzzling the indentations in his body while his rigid cock bobbed against the side of her neck, twitching with every hot peck placed on his stomach.

"Mercedes?" he growled, running a rough hand through her hair.

"Hmm?" she asked, against his belly with a wide smirk.

"Oh nothing, just wanted to let you know that you are absolutely fucking killing me right now."

"You should be more relaxed than this, sweetie," she purred, "I guess I'm not a good teacher after all. Let me work out that tension for you."

"Unnnf," he groaned, as she ran her tongue up and down his shaft, stopping each time she reached the tip of him to place a smacking kiss. This was still torture to Sam but he considered it progress, especially when one kiss turned into her enveloping the head of his dick in her mouth. He couldn't watch, couldn't bear to see those plump lips wrapped around him and sucking him into submission, so he closed his eyes, content to lay there and just and enjoy it for as long as he could. That plan flew away when he felt her fingers caressing his balls, rubbing her thumb over them repeatedly as the pads of her fingers lightly grazed him. He chanced a look at her, almost coming undone immediately when the saw the look of pure ecstasy on her face as she bobbed up and down on his dick.

"You like that?" he asked in a gruff whisper, brushing her hair back to get a better view.

"Mmmmhmmmm," she mumbled with him still in her mouth, her moan vibrating deeply against the tip of him, causing him to thrust of up into her. She took the movement in stride, gripping his shaft tighter, sucking her cheeks harder around him and increasing her speed.

He was a goner and he knew it. He didn't try to stop it, he couldn't. That ball of pressure sitting in his belly was going to release itself whether he was ready for that to happen or not. Mercedes anticipated that; she must have felt that quake in him, the tighter grip on her hair, and his breaths coming out in harsh puffs. She pulled him from her mouth, continuing to stroke him with her hand at the same firm pace. Four more passes of her little hand around him and he was done, jerking his hips and spurting his hot seed all over his over abdomen.

"You taste really good," she admitted, placing one more kiss to the tip of him before sticking her tongue out and moving to lap at the trail of white plastered on his midsection. She lapped up his cum unhurriedly, her eyes locked with his as she cleaned him up, and Sam could already feel himself ready to come to life again as he watched her. He pulled her back up to him, crashing his lips with hers and parting her mouth to suck on her tongue.

Sam was relieved to have his first nut out of the way, knowing that if he would have fucked her first, he wouldn't have lasted very long. And he wanted to go all night with this woman. As he flipped Mercedes onto her back, her skin meeting the floor with a slap, he could tell the heat he grinded himself against would be deadly.

He continued to kiss her, distracting her as he moved a hand down her body, over her soft sides and even softer thighs before coming around to the front of her. His fingers drug lazily along the band of her panties, tugging at it teasingly until she pushed her hips off the ground to encourage him to remove the underwear. Not yet.

Those same lazy fingers, drug a path to her center, pressing harder against the wet fabric separating their touches until he found the little nubbin that made her moan loudly against his mouth. He rubbed around it, giving her just enough pressure to writhe beneath him and claw at his shoulders, but not nearly enough to come.

"I bet you taste good too," he said between lingering pecks to her lips. "Can I taste you, baby? Please, tell me yes."

"Oh God, yessss."

Sam practically jumped from her, kissing his way down her neck until he reached the swell of her breasts. He slipped his fingers beneath her bra, running them over her peaked nipples and biting the nubs through the fabric until she grabbed the piece of clothing and pulled it up and off. She couldn't even toss it aside before Sam's mouth was on her, sucking her breasts hungrily and brushing his tongue over her skin. He would have stayed longer in that position, teasing her and delighting in the needy whimpers that came out of her but the hips grinding beneath him, pressing against him in a steady pass over his cock were begging for his attention and he couldn't make her wait any longer. He popped her nipple from his mouth, running his tongue around it one more time before returning to her lips to kiss the pout she wore when he pulled away.

"Don't worry, baby," he told her with another kiss, "I'm nowhere near finished with you."

He could smell her as he moved down her body, rubbing his nose against her core the moment he reached it, inhaling deeply to try to imprint the scent of her on his mind forever. His lips moved along her panties, kissing tentatively until he found her button again, then sucking it while he moved two fingers to caress her slick folds. She was wet, soaked even, he noticed, as his fingers played with her, circling her hole before finally slipping inside. He parted his mouth from her long enough to push her panties aside, to watch his long, pale fingers slipping in and out of soft pink warmth. She felt good wrapped around two of his fingers, and Sam could imagine how she'd feel wrapped around his cock, tight and wet and warm and milking him for everything he had. His dick was throbbing at the thought, forcing him to attack her clit with his mouth again as his fingers curled to stroke her spot.

"Ohohohohoh," she panted, fisting two hands into his hair and pushing further into him. He noticed the tremble in her smooth thighs, threatening to snap shut around his head, the frantic grinding of her hips, and the increasing pulsation of her walls around his fingers. _She was there._

"Are you gonna come for me? I need you to come for me, baby," he urged, mouth still pressed to her, ready and waiting for her release.

Mercedes began to shake her head back and forth, fighting the feeling that had her eyes rolling into the back of her head. Sam chuckled against her, recognizing the stubbornness he wholeheartedly identified with. She could deny it all she wanted to but she was going to come and he would be there to lap up every fucking drop. The third finger he slipped inside of her made sure of that, two firm presses of his fingers against her fleshy upper wall and his name was tumbling from her lips as she coated her fingers in his cream. He kept moving his digits inside of her, watching her for a moment until he greedily went to collect her essence with his tongue. Fuck. She tasted amazing; tart and tangy and a little sweet and like something he could eat every day for the rest of his life. His tongue took on a life of his own, sinking in and out of her to try and take every drop she had to offer. But it was like she never stopped, the more his tongue worked inside of her the wetter she seemed to get and when Sam noticed the sudden silence, the quivering, and the fingers scraping his scalp, and he realized just what he was doing to her. _She was there. __**Again**__. _

"Sam, stop," she begged, pulling his head away, best she could. He licked his cum-covered lips, looking up at her with the most innocent eyes he could muster from between her legs.

"You don't wanna come again?"

"Not like that," she breathed, "I want you to fuck me before I pass out."

"Whatever you want, baby."

Quickly, he sheathed himself with a condom from his wallet, returning to her as soon as he could to settle between her legs. In that moment, Sam knew there was nowhere else in the worth he would rather be. Nothing mattered except the woman beneath him and he would show her every bit of attention she deserved for as long as she could have him. It would kill him to have to do otherwise.

At first, he wanted to savor the moment, to reflect on every inch he pushed inside of her, but when she arched toward him, spreading her legs wider and running her slit along the tip of him that was out of the question. He was going to fuck her hard this first time. Later, there would time for tenderness and for observing every little thing she did, but now was not the time. Now was the time for relieving the ache he knew they both felt until neither of them could stand upright.

All he had to do was get inside. Once he was in, it would be easy from there. After they adjusted, he could set the pace and make sure they both enjoyed the hell out of every little thrust. But when he pressed just the tip into her, he couldn't help the sudden jerk of his hips that forced him to fill her up completely.

"Ohmyfuckinggodshit. Shit. Shit. Shit!" she hissed, digging her nails into his shoulders until he was sure he broke the skin. He winced from the pain, burying his face in her neck to try and hide his reaction, knowing her pain was probably far worse than his. All Sam could feel was the pulsation between them, his dick trapped in the most comfortable vice in existence.

He quickly took her lips, pressing several firm pecks against the parted pair. "I'm sorry," he cooed, "I'm so sorry. Tell me when I can move, okay?"

She didn't respond at first. Her eyes were shut tight and her fingers were still curled tightly around him. To Sam, she looked adorable in that position, like the pleasure was just a few moments away from the pain and all she had to do was will herself to get there. The link of their bodies was becoming unbearable for him, all he wanted to do was glide out of her and rush right back in; and being forced to hold still, unable to push or pull, was the absolute worst.

"Go ahead," she finally whispered after what felt like hours. Sam nodded, keeping his mouth attached to hers, kissing her deeply as he began to move. Everything about Mercedes was amazing, and every bit of her absolutely drove him wild. Every breath she took, pushing her chest against his, the whimpers he readily sipped from her lips, the feel of her heat wrapped around him, pushing him out and accepting him back in with every thrust of his body toward hers. He was drunk on her, and there was no sobriety in sight.

"Turn over," he suddenly ordered in a deep grunt, lifting himself slightly off her.

She wrapped her legs around him, shaking her head. "Why? This feels good."

"Cow stretch," he ordered. "Now."

A grin curled her lips, and paired with the knowing look in her eye, Sam knew he was definitely in for more of a treat. Mercedes turned over on all fours, assuming the position and allowing Sam to settle behind her.

He fucked her in cow stretch, in supine, and in a modified goddess pose. She was quick to move when he commanded, limber and always anticipating his next move. The two made a perfect team, enjoying one another's bodies as if there was nothing else in the world. Every position was better than the last and Sam had the sudden desire to join a more advanced yoga class just for the fun of trying more new things. The excitement of being with her in so many different way kept him going; he was anxious to see how else they could twist their bodies and had every intention of not halting their session any time soon.

That was before their last position. It was the half forward bend that did him in. The sight of Mercedes bent over completely, her hands pressed flat against the floor and her ass and glistening pussy greeting him, was enough to finish him. When he finally slid himself back into her, shuddering at the return to her warmth, he couldn't stop the deep pumps he immediately began to supply. The moment he slid out of her, he wanted more, taking a bruising grip on her hips and pummeling back in to satisfy that need.

He was working her into her fourth orgasm of the evening when he felt his own coming on. His balls were heavy and his abdomen tight as he slowed his steady strokes, pulling out of her and gently lifting her back up to him. She whimpered when he spun her in his arms, but before she could have time to ask what she was doing, he grabbed hold of her, lifting her from the ground, forcing her to wrap her legs tightly around his waist.

"I wanted to see you," he confessed, walking them a few steps until her back collided with a wall. He leaned away long enough, to slip back into her, his impending release slowing his movements severely and causing him to hiss at the feeling of her warmth.

"You feel good too," she mused, reflecting his own thoughts and taking his lips as he began to pump into her slowly. His body ached and hers shook but there was suddenly no rush. The little pricks of pleasure bothering every part of him, weren't enough of an incentive for him to pick up the pace. He couldn't hurry even though he wanted to, and after six very slow thrusts, his hips were jerking, she was cursing and the two came undone in a heady mess of moans and grunts and sighs.

"So, I think it might be for the best if I stop coming to class," he suggested, slowly allowing her feet to touch the ground again before he leaned heavily on top of her, wrapping his arms around her and pressing her into the wall.

"Why is that?" she questioned, carding her fingers through his damp hair and pressing a kiss to his forehead, "I thought you enjoyed it."

"Honestly, I'm really afraid that I'm going to fuck you in front of all of those people."

She giggled softly, her laugh escaping on a still heavy breath, "Who says you get to fuck me again at all?"

"Please, darlin'," he breathed deeply into her neck, lapping at her salty skin. "We both know this is happening again. I'd say in like half an hour."

Another giggle and his heart warmed, causing him to curl a little tighter around her, holding her as close as his weakened arms would allow, "You're ambitious. I like that," she confessed with a nod.

He lifted his head, pressing his forehead to hers as he admitted, "I like you."

"I noticed. I like you too, baby," she returned, taking his lips and sharing in a kiss to confirm the declaration.

Yeah, he wasn't going back to yoga class. Private lessons would be much better anyway.

* * *

**How was that? Was it worth my little lengthy hiatus? Let me know, reviews below. **


	23. An Hour with Dr Jones

Back from another mini-break to offer you all another little one-shot. This one is based on some prompt requests I received and written in honor of the birthday of a tumblr friend of mine.

**_This one-shot features: Psychologist Mercedes, sexually failing Sam, caramel couch sex, curse words, and fulfillment. _**

* * *

It smelled like cinnamon. Her office. It smelled like cinnamon, like the potpourri you buy in those netted bags and stash behind the couch so your living room smells habitable. The cinnamon complemented the cream walls, caramel couches, wooden framed furniture, and the soft lighting, most of which was provided by the wall-sized window I sat down in front of on a large couch big enough for several of her complaining patients whose ranks I was now joining.

"So what brings you into my office today, Sam?" she asked, after we had gotten our initial introductions out of the way. A handshake was shared and we each found positions opposite one another for the next hour. I could still feel her hand in mine as I ran my palms up and down the slacks I wore, it was small and warm and soft and like something I wanted to caress my entire body.

The rest of her looked soft too, the thick waves of black hair cascading over the shoulders of her red silk blouse, the hips encased in a tweed skirt, the plump lips tinted crimson saying something to me that I didn't understand. My mouth went dry with a sudden desire to devour her as I sat somewhat slack-jawed and staring her down. "Huh?"

"I asked you why you're here today, Sam." Even her voice was soft, gentle and calm and I was sure the only way it could sound better is when pushed out of her throat in moans she couldn't control. Moans I wanted to cause

Fuck. This was my problem, why I felt the need to see a therapist in the first place. Having these thoughts was one thing but acting upon them proved to be an entirely different game. Sure, I could rake my eyes over Dr. Jones' form, detailing each and every curve of her to deposit into my spank bank but if somehow I was granted permission to do anything at all to her, I would probably chicken out. I always did.

I shrugged, chuckling off my state of distraction. "Oh, sorry. I - uh - I made an appointment and I showed up."

"Why did you make the appointment?" I gathered this part of the visit to be routine for her, the foreplay before she got into the stuff that mattered, before she cracked open my head and dug around to her heart's content.

"Because I needed to talk to someone." The answer was simple and truthful. All I could come up with seeing as the last few moments had only been spent thinking about every available spot in which I could fuck my therapist in her spacious office.

She nodded, clicking the purple pen in her hand into action and bringing it to rest above the lined notepad she held. "And what do you need to talk about?"

_About the fact that you're still wearing clothes._"It's…difficult."

"Trust me, there isn't much that I haven't heard from that couch. Remember that you're paying me to listen and to offer help. I can't do that if we don't discuss your issue." She peered at me over the top of her thick glasses, her deep brown eyes, large and round, surveying me, stripping me of the layer of bullshit I wrapped myself in daily.

"Right."

"We don't have to talk about it now; we can get there eventually -"

"And that costs me more money, right?" It wasn't my idea to be here. Puck got her name through Quinn and somehow her card ended up in my wallet and just as I was about to fuck some redheaded so and so I picked up the thick white thing instead of the condom I was going for. It took me all of two minutes to dismiss the girl whose name I still can't remember and even less time for my dick to go limp as I stared at the black raised numbers that would connect me to her, itching to call them and solve whatever the hell was wrong with me.

I had to stop. If I wasn't trying to have sex, I was thinking about it obsessing over the fact that I could never hit the home run and always got stuck somewhere between first and third bases.

It wasn't uncommon for me pick up girls in coffee shops, invite them home and try to fuck them. The operative word being _try_. Something always happened that never got me further than a few heated kisses and some exposed skin. My last unsuccessful attempt at physical intimacy was halted by the ten little numbers that started my journey to the couch I currently sat on.

"_You_made the appointment," she reminded me firmly, crossing her thick legs and leaning against the back of the large wing chair that matched my couch. "No one is forcing you to be here. If you don't wish to talk to me, you don't have to. I'm not going to pull your teeth. We won't get to the root of the problem that way."

"How did you become a psychologist?" I inquired, darting my eyes around the room and looking for anything to talk about that wasn't me. Maybe we could start with the framed degrees on the wall, the plants and flowers scattered around her office - were they real? - or even the lack of wedding band on Dr. Jones' left hand.

"Well," she began, tossing her eyes upward to contemplate her reply, "I earned a bachelor's in psychology from-"

"No, I guess what I meant to say was _why_did you become a psychologist." I could stare at the walls to figure out where the degrees were from, what I was really curious about is why the woman sitting across from me decided to obtain them.

"Oh, that's a different question entirely," her shoulders dropped from her previously poised position as she folded her hands in her lap and spoke freely, "I became a psychologist because I was always the one my friends were coming to with their problems. As I got older, I realized most of the people I called my friends weren't my friends anyway, not really. They only wanted me when they needed to vent. I wasn't the friend they called when there was a party or anything fun to do. I was the emergency friend."

"Shit. That sucks."

"It did," she confirmed with an agreeing nod, "But I'm one for making the best of a bad situation. I let them think I was still that friend but I made them pay for each and every time I listened to one of their little problems. Sarah wanted to talk about her boyfriend, well Sarah had to take me out for ice cream. Elijah wanted to talk about his problems with his parents, he had to take me to the movies."

A smirk curled my lips as I listened to her, delighted at her outlook and control over a bad situation. "So you became a psychologist just so you get paid for listening to people?"

"No. I became a psychologist _because_people would pay me to listen to them. Which means that I must be an amazing listener. I wouldn't have a career if I wasn't good at what I did."

"Right."  
"So what do you do for a living, Sam?"

"I'm the director or art for an advertising agency."

"Do you like what you do?"

"I love it. I essentially get to doodle all day, it's kind of awesome. I set my own hours, my office is amazing, and I get to meet plenty of people."

She nodded again, a gesture I would never grow tired of because of the way the simple movement tousled her hair slightly, enticing me to grab a handful of it and yank it while I drilled her from behind. "You seem fulfilled," she noted as she began to write, "Are you fulfilled, Sam?"

"At my job? Yeah."

She kept her eyes on her notepad and her furiously scribbling hand as she asked, "What about your social life?"

"My friends are great. I've had the same ones since high school. They're like my family."

"And your home life, satisfying as well?"

"There isn't much there. It's just me, my apartment, and my fish." Storm and Widow, the only women I've needed in my life.

She peeked up at me for her next questions, her eyebrows rising with what I gleaned to be curiosity. "No wife? No girlfriend?"

"Nope."

"No boyfreind?"

"Definitely not," I replied with a shake of my head, beginning to wonder just where this line of questioning was leading. Somehow, she managed to put the focus back on me and I hadn't even noticed that I was doing all the talking. That was exactly what I didn't want. If I had to open up, I wanted her to open up a little as well. It was only fair. "What about you?" I asked, leaning forward to do a little questioning of my own. "No wife? No girlfriend?"

It was her turn for a head shake as she raised her head to return her full attention to me. "Neither. No husband or boyfriend either."

"I don't see how that's possible," I mumbled, averting my gaze once I realized that the statement came out much louder than I intended. It was already in the air and I couldn't take it back but the least I could do is hope she didn't hear it or would ignore it if she did.

"Excuse me?"

_Shit. _"Just saying," I hedged, scratching my head as I slowly brought my eyes back to hers. She didn't seem offended or put off so I decided why not be honest? "You're beautiful and from what I gather you're intelligent as hell and pretty friendly. I don't see how you're not in a relationship."

"Thank you," she replied, casting a smile they stayed around for a few seconds, long enough to encourage me to further the conversation.

"So what about your sex life?" I asked, pushing my luck a little farther when I noticed the smile lighting her face. She really was beautiful and when her lips parted to show me a glimpse of the pearly whites beneath the plump cherry reds, I lost my breath for a moment as I took her in.

The smile faded too quickly, confusion replacing the brief look of happiness as she inquired, "What about it?"

"Are you sexually fulfilled?"

"Don't you think we're getting a little personal?"

I held my ground, sensing that I could crack her if I wanted to. Maybe after I had her nice and open we could start talking about me again. "No. I think this is helping me get to the "root" of my problem. That's your job, right?"

"Right. Well," she began, still calm despite the change in subject, "I guess it's hard to have a fulfilling sex life when you aren't having a lot of it."

"Really? Please go on."

A soft laugh showcased that blinding smile again, causing a weird thumping in my chest I attributed to indigestion. "Trust me, there isn't much more to say. Your turn. Is your sex life fulfilling?"

I licked my lips, hoping to garner some sort of reaction from her that wasn't reserved. "Not at all."

"Please go on," she teased, removing her glasses and bringing one of the arms to sit between her lips as she stared at me.

Between mentally writing down the beginning of a long list of places I wanted those lips to be on my body I managed to say, "Long story short, I have no problem picking up girls but whenever I try to actually fuck them, I can't seem to get the job done. You were actually the cause of my last failure."

She chuckled, folding her glasses and sitting down on the large coffee table between us, "How so?"

"I went into my wallet for a condom and came out with your business card."

"Interesting. That's the first time I've been a cockblocker, I think."

"Did you just say cock?" Honestly, it was the only word my mind registered. Anything after that was white noise, running water through my filthy thoughts.

"_Cockblocker_," she repeated, saying the word slow enough for me to catch the way her mouth parted perfectly for 'cock'.

"Right. So, I think you owe me for that. I missed out on some action because of you. It would only be fair of you to make it up to me." You couldn't blame me for trying, right? Worst case scenario, she'd kick me out of her office and I'd never be allowed within two hundred feet of her again. I also wouldn't have to worry about seeing a therapist unless my friends could come together and find another doctor for me. Which I didn't see happening after I told them how I lost this one. Best case scenario, well, some things in her office would probably be broken and her snappily dressed secretary would probably think we were killing one another.

She was silent for a moment, her eyes never leaving mine as we stared one another down. I wasn't going to waiver. I said what I said and now it was her turn to decide just where we would be going. "And how do you suppose I do that?" she finally asked, leaning forward and awaiting my answer.

"Well," I said, leaning in a little bit more, "Since we're on the subject of cock-"

"What kind of doctor do you think I am?" Her voice was quiet, almost flirty, not surprised or offended as I expect it to be. She wasn't backing down.

I kept my cool, trying not to read more into the situation than necessary. Maybe she flirted with all of her patients and it was just my mind that thought that within a few moments there would be very little clothing between us if we continued this conversation. "All I'm saying is that each of us seems to have a problem of the -uh- sexual kind."

"And?"

"And you're a woman, I'm a man. I don't see the harm in us helping one another out."

"So what you're trying to say is that you think it wouldn't hurt either of us to get fucked and that you'd like for the two of us to do so? To fuck?"

Fuck was almost as good as the word cock coming from her. The little breath she forced out with each ending k was enough to ruin me entirely, to cause a stirring below my waist that I had been in control of until now. "Are you offering?"

She sighed, glancing at the silver watch she wore in silence before she returned her eyes to mine, rising from her seat to strut the short distance between us and plant herself on the coffee table in front of me. She smelled amazing. I wanted to be wrapped up in her, covered completely and made to forget the existence of any other woman before her.

The hand running up my leg caught me off guard, but I managed not to tremor beneath her touch, hoping she didn't catch the quick, anticipatory breath I sucked in. "Your session is over in ten minutes," she informed me, inching her hand higher, until it grazed the zipper on my pants. "But I could gladly extend it," she traced the zipped with a single finger, her nail scraping against the teeth of it, "Free of charge, of course, if you'd like to stick around."

"I'd like that."

"Good. Where would you like to start?" her hand roamed my lap freely, stopping only when her fingers pressed against my cock, hard and ready for whatever she wanted to do with it. She massaged me through my pants, keeping her eyes on mine as she did so.

I wanted to watch her hand to see just how she played with me, but her stare held mine captive. "Aren't you the doctor? You should be able to tell me where I need the most help," I whispered with no particular inflection, fighting the urge to jump on top of her.

"You're right. I have absolutely no problem taking the lead; just make sure you keep up."

"I've never had a problem with that before."

"You've also never been on my couch before."

"First time for everything, right?"

"Mmhmm. And the last time if you're terrible."

"So what do you recommend I do, Dr. Jones?"

"First, call me Mercedes. Second," she rose from the table, turning and offering me her backside. I bit my lip, fighting to stop the approving grunt that wanted to come out, "Could you unzip me?" Her eyes met mine as she glanced at me over her shoulder and I nodded my compliance, sliding my hands over her hips, cupping and massaging her ass before finding my way to the well hidden zipper at the center of her skirt. Slowly, I pulled it down, helping her move her skirt over her hips and taking my time to drag it down her legs then help her step out of it. I wanted to admire her further, to take the time to run my fingers over the lace of her red panties and become better acquainted with her skin, but she turned around before I could touch her again.

"What's next?" I asked, my breathing suddenly heavy and my eyes glued to the front of her, staring at the hem of the blouse she wore that stopped at her hips, showing off her thighs and the skin I wanted to nip and taste.

She didn't answer right away, grabbing the lapels of my shirt, pulling me to stand in front of her, pressing me against her and allowing herself to feel the bulge she caused that I was proud to sport. Her eyes met mine and I recognized the passion flickering through them before she pulled me to her, our lips crashing in an intense kiss that I had been yearning for since our initial handshake. Her lips were soft, a delightful cushion and perfect match for mine. She even tasted like cinnamon, a little sweet and enough to make me want more of her, to breathe her in and taste her for as long as I could. Our tongues collided when she parted her lips, mine wasting no time in finding hers and tangling with it. We were a mess of teeth and loud smacks as her hands gripped me tighter and my hands ran down her back to cup her ass and bring us even closer together.

I didn't notice she had turned us around until I felt her pulling away. She positioned herself on the couch, looking up at me with those hungry orbs I wanted to see closed in complete satisfaction. Like a puppy, I awaited her next orders, my body on fire and suddenly jittery from the kiss. I wanted more of her, needed it.

"Your clothes, take them off," she ordered.

"All of them?"

"If I have to ask you again, I'm going to ask you to leave."

I got the message quickly, she didn't like to fuck around and I respected that. Normally, I went with a little flirty banter, some dirty talk here and there, but she was all business and I was happy to follow her lead. My shirt was first, a few buttons, my long fingers handled with ease before tossing the garment to the ground. She didn't seem impressed by the six pack, her chestnut eyes stayed with my olive ones as I slipped out of my loafers then took off my pants and boxers in one swoop. I planned to do a little spin, to let her appreciate the full package but she was quick with her next instructions.

"On your knees."

This time, I thought better than to question her, quickly positioning myself in front of her as she spread her legs, making room for me to settle between them.

"I think you've got it from here," she said confidently, inching her hips a little closer to me. I knew exactly what she wanted and I was glad to give it to her. I enjoyed taking orders, but now it was my turn to take control, she was at my mercy and I was going to break her down just enough for "Sam", "Please", "Don't stop", and "More" to be the only words she would be able to pick out of her probably extensive vocabulary.

Silently, I thanked God and also Jesus for thigh-high stockings as I rubbed my hands over her legs, parting them a little further as I brought my mouth down to meet her skin. I began with her thighs, leaving light kisses along the insides of them as my hands continued to massage her, snaking up to graze over her panties and around her hips to grab her ass and pull her closer. I noticed the hitch in her breathing as I moved farther up, and the whimper when my path stopped at the crotch of her panties and skipped the area to continue down her other thigh until I reached the top of her stocking. Smiling against her skin and looking at up at her to note the frustrated look she wore, I decided to put both of us out of our misery. My dick was throbbing, put on full alert the moment I smelled her and the longer he had to wait the harder it would be to take it easy on Dr. Jones when we finally reached that moment.

"Don't look so sad, beautiful," I teased, inching my way back to her center then swiping my tongue along her covered slit. "I'm going to take good care of you." She smelled amazing and I had every intention of tasting her fully but a little more teasing was in order, enough to get her nice and wet before I really started. I traced a finger over her panties, rubbing until I found her button then attaching my mouth to it to continue the stimulation. The slow, deep moan that pushed past her lips made my dick twitch in anticipation. I wanted more of those sounds flowing out of her and reaching me, encouraging me to give her more.

My fingers traced along her hips, tugging at the band of her undies, testing their durability as I pulled the material from her skin and snapped it back with several stinging smacks. She writhed beneath me, threading a hand through my short blond blocks and yanking to cause me a little bit of pain as well. A growl escaped me, vibrating against her skin as my hands quickly made the decision to get rid of the barrier. The thin material didn't put up much of a fight and the bit of fabric was soon being tossed aside as my mouth continued its work on her clit, brushing over it with my tongue as my fingers massaged her lower lips, teasing around her opening before finding their way inside of her.

_Shit_. She was tight and hot and wet, wrapping around the two fingers I slipped into her wetness and grinding her hips in rhythm to my slow pumps. I picked up the pace, going faster as each wanton whimper reached my ears and demanded that I go further, faster, finding the patch of skin different from the rest of her and pulling the pads of fingers along it until her hips began an arrhythmic jerk and her grip tightened in my hair.

I wish I could have seen her come, to watch her unravel, but her thighs were pressed against my ears only allowing me to hear a muffled version of the moans that were still pretty fucking loud. I know she came hard, the nails pressing my scalp and the hips bucking against my face told me so. I bet her lips were parted, her eyes were closed and each breath was a struggle. I bet she looked beautiful in that moment. Maybe I would get to see it later. This time, I was satisfied with the fact that I at least got to taste her, to lap up her essence greedily, only stopping when her hold on me slackened and her legs fell to my shoulders.

I pulled up, my lips and chin shining as I moved my way up her body. Unfastening the buttons on her shirt one by one and kissing the skin I exposed until I reached her breasts. She took care of the rest of her shirt, leaning up to pull it off while I unfastened the front clasp on her bra, releasing her breasts and only allowing them to feel the air momentarily before my mouth descended upon one and my hand cupped the other.

My tongue laved over her nipple, tasting her skin before my lips captured the taut bud and pulled it into my mouth. My hand mimicked the action on the other side, rolling the other peak between my fingers and brushing over it with my thumb the same way my tongue brushed over the other. I switched sides, teasing her breasts until she was moving beneath me again, moaning my name and growing impatient with my slow assault.

"Sam," she breathed, pushing me away from her chest lightly, "Come here."

I released her breasts, biting my lip as I followed her simple order. "You gonna take care of me too?" I asked, pressing my lips to hers.

She nodded, pulling me on to her and helping me to find a comfortable position above her, my knees on either side of her and my hard dick rubbing over her midsection as I leaned down to kiss her again, biting her bottom lip when I felt her warm palm wrapping around my manhood. I didn't stop her, allowing her to take the lead again as she began a slow stroke that forced me to grip the couch behind her as I thrust into her hand.

She helped me move higher, bringing my dick to rest on her chest. I was practically standing on the couch at this point, moving my hips between her ample breasts and willing myself not to come just from the sight of my dick enveloped completely and pushing up far enough to tap her neck. I was doing the thrusting and even rubbing her nipples and massaging her breasts while I did so, but she still had control, tipping her head down to take the head of my cock into her mouth, sucking in her cheeks to wrap tightly around it and pulling out a series of surprised and delighted curses from me.

"Shit," seemed to be my favorite word. It tumbled out of me again and again as I moved, soon forgetting about the titty fuck and standing completely so that I could just fuck that hot little mouth of hers. She placed her hands on my thighs, her nails digging into my skin as I moved in and out of her mouth. My hands found a home in her hair, gripping it tightly to guide her movements, pushing inside of her until I hit the back of her throat and pulling out quickly only to repeat the action. I couldn't do that for too long, I would have come if I kept it up and I wanted to be truly inside of her before our time was through.

I kissed her again after I pulled from her mouth and stepped down from the couch. Pushing back the coffee table, I dropped to my knees and positioned myself on the floor again.

"Turn over." I ordered, steadying myself on the ground and pulling her off the couch and to her knees. She hesitated, her eyebrow quirked as if she wanted further explanation. She would get none. Mercedes wasn't the only one who could turn on the sass, I just hoped she could take it in addition to dishing it out. "If I have to ask you again, you won't get to come again."

"Right." She replied, moving to turn around without questioning my intentions.

And just like that, I had that beautiful ass of hers again, rubbing against me as I groaned and began to massage her cheeks with my hands. Easily, I found a condom from my wallet, the one I couldn't seem to successfully locate the last time, and sheathed myself before my dick took over again. He wanted her. Fuck, _I_wanted her and sliding into her was the only thing I needed to accomplish for the rest of the month.

This was another famous stopping point of mine, the moment before any actual penetration, my dick would soften and the moment would be ruined entirely, most of the time for a reason I couldn't pinpoint. But I looked down at him, proud and twitching as he waited for my hips to give in to his demands and I saw no failure ahead.

Her pussy stopped all the thinking, all the deciding, as she moved her lower half to swipe her slit along my tip. That was all the motivation I needed, pushing forward to guide myself carefully inside of her before she could even complete the action.

_Fuck_. She felt good. She was tight and warm and fit me like the tightest fucking glove imaginable. I gripped her hips as I started to move, pulling out of her only to rush back in, my body immediately missing the close contact the moment it was lost. At first I was gentle, finding a steady rhythm and reveling in the feeling of her pussy gliding along my cock but as soon as I got used to the feeling I began to move faster. Our skin slapped together loudly in the quiet office, the only sound to compliment the whimpers and moans and grunts and groans coming from she and I respectively.

I fell in love with the way we moved together, each of our bodies having a hand in the pleasure we were both experiencing. She didn't let me do all the work and moved her hips in sync with mine to push us father to that point we both ached for. It was also her who pushed herself up and allowed me to wrap around her, grabbing her breasts and kissing her lips as I kept up my efforts. Her body was like nothing I had ever felt before and I knew it wouldn't be long before I succumbed to her completely.

It was no use trying to fight it. I was going to come and even my best efforts to think about anything that wasn't her wouldn't be strong enough to stave off my release. I drug a hand down her body, finding her clit and rubbing it until I felt her walls fluttering around me, milking my dick as we tipped over into that blissful state we'd been chasing for the past sixty minutes. I swore I saw stars and bright colors that mixed in with the huffs of air shoving out of me that carried her name.

_Mercedes._

It became like a song for me, a song whose words I would forget if I didn't scream them hoarsely while steadily pumping my hips to a grinding halt until I ran out of breath to do either, collapsing on top of her without warning.

I kissed her damp back, nipping at her shoulders gently and trying to catch my breath again. I wanted to fall completely over onto the floor, to curl up next to her and stay that way for the remainder of the day. But she probably had better things to do, other people to see that weren't me and were probably way more important.

"Can we move?" she asked quietly, apparently regaining her composure much quicker than I could and already positioning herself to push up from the floor before I separated myself from her. Once I did, she got up, running her fingers through her hair and staring at me as she bit her bottom lip.

I felt exposed, suddenly nervous under her sharp stare. Despite what we had just done, those big eyes of hers made me feel like a stranger. "I guess I should get going." Those were all the words I could manage as I felt my face getting hot as I reached for my pants and tried not to fumble as I got back on my feet.

She stopped me, placing a small hand on my arm and offering a sweet smile. "You don't have to," she insisted, "You were my last appointment for the day and I'm kind of starving. We could get dinner."

_Shit._For whatever reason, Mercedes wanted me around and I knew it would do me some good to stay in her company. Whatever she had done to me, I wanted again. My smirk came back and I felt cocky as ever as I replied, "I kind of already ate."

"I meant actual food and you know it."

"Of course. But so you know, I'm never too full for _that_."

"Good to know." I watched her for a moment as she dressed, putting her bra back on, tossing her panties in the garbage and instructing me to do the same with the condom, then quickly getting back into her top and skirt, offering me her backside to tend to the zipper once again. Watching her move was incredible, not once did she stutter in her actions, gracefully pulling herself back together as if we'd done nothing at all. I wanted to mess her up again, to ruffle her hair and rip a few more pieces of her clothing. After dinner, maybe I would get the chance. Maybe she'd want more of me in the same way I wanted more of her.

It didn't take me long to get back into my clothes while she shut down her office for the evening, closing the blinds and switching off lights here and there while I waited patiently for her to finish up.

"So since we're dating," I began, waiting for her to lock up her office door once we made it to the reception area, "Does this mean you can't be my therapist anymore?"

"Who said we were dating?"

"I did. Remember, no wife, no girlfriend, no husband, no boyfriend, I'm a man, you're a woman? I see no harm in us going on a few dates."

She smiled, holding in her answer until she began walking toward the elevator with me following closely behind her. "First time for everything, right?"

"Yep," I confirmed applying a heavy smack to her ass, "And last time if I don't get lucky again tonight."

"Fair enough," she squealed, yanking me by my arm so I could fall into step with her. "Also, this will be the last date if I don't come at least twice more tonight."

"That's easy, Dr. Jones, we can get one of those times out of the way in the car."

She pushed the button for the elevator, taking my hand in hers as we waited for it to arrive, smiling up at me as she said, "I'll hold you to that."

* * *

**I'm slowly working my way through all the prompts I've received but there should be another story coming along soon. Remember that your feedback gives me life and keeps me writing. How did I do? ****_Let me know, reviews below. _**


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